The Distant Nightmare
The letter lay on the rusted table in the breakroom, the paper yellowed and soft as a bruise, and Arthur Vane read the figure at the bottom for the third time, his thumb smearing the ink where the amount was owed. It was a bill for his father’s life, a debt that had been accruing interest since the old man’s lungs collapsed in the pit three years prior, and the total, forty-two dollars and...
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