The Pale Fracture
The letter lay on the desk, its edges soft and worn from the handling of three different clerks before it reached Elias Thorne. It was a standard rejection notice, printed on the heavy, cream-colored stock that the Ministry of Continuity used for all personnel decisions, the ink a dull, bureaucratic grey. Elias read it twice, the second time slower, noting the date in the corner: October 14th,...
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