The Faded Bouquet
The cracked "A" sat in the tray like a broken tooth, its serif snapped clean off, exposing the dull, grey heart of the lead beneath. Elias Thorne picked it up, his fingers trembling not from cold but from the sudden, violent intrusion of an object that did not belong in his private case. He was forty-two, a master typesetter with twenty years of service at Blackwood Press, and his pension...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews