The Faded Road
The hallway of the federal office building smelled of floor wax and stale coffee, a scent that had seeped into the fibers of Elias Thorne’s suit over the last twenty years of service. He stood before the mirror in the men’s room, adjusting his tie, his reflection steady and unblinking, but just over his left shoulder, a figure of gray static moved in perfect, delayed synchronicity with his own...
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