The Distant Journey
The transfer order lay on the kitchen table, a slip of beige paper stained with coffee rings, listing Julian Gillingham’s new post at Blackwood Penitentiary. He read the date twice. October 14th. Four days away. He wanted the quiet, the end of the shift, the chance to sit with Elara in the garden where the roses had finally stopped bleeding their red petals into the mud. But the paper was not...
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