The Wistful Witness
The pen in your hand is a standard issue Parker, its clip bent slightly from being shoved into a jacket pocket for two decades. You hold it now, feeling the cold metal bite into the pad of your thumb, as you prepare to write the first entry of the official log for the northern sector. You are Elias Thorne, fifty-two years old, and you want only the quiet retirement that twenty years of service...
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