The Wistful Voyage
The letter lay on the desk, the paper thin and brittle as dried skin, bearing the embossed seal of Vane Development Group. I read it twice, the ink sharp against the gray light of the library, a notice of termination effective Friday. My hands, stained with the dust of a century, did not tremble, but the silence in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against my eardrums until I felt a low,...
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