The Faded Ruin
The form was white, unlined, and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Elias held it under the fluorescent tube of the Bureau waiting room, the paper trembling slightly in his grip not from fear, but from the cold that seeped through the linoleum floor into his socks. He had waited for four hours. The clerk, a woman with glasses that magnified her eyes into hollow, judgmental orbs, had slid the...
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