The Golden Visit
The order was typed on thin, yellowed paper, the ink smudged where a thumb had pressed the edge. Sergeant Elias Thorne read it twice, the words sharp as broken glass in the mud of the front line. Execute the prisoner at dawn. The prisoner sat ten feet away, bound to a sapling, his face a mask of grey dirt and blood. He looked too much like Thomas, Elias’s brother, who had died of fever in a...
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