The Faded Guest
The damp stone of the infirmary at Fort Blackwood wept with a persistent, cold moisture that seemed to seep into the marrow of Elias Thorne’s bones, a pervasive chill that mirrored the slow, inexorable decay of his lungs, which rattled in his chest like dry leaves in a hollow tree. He sat on the edge of the straw mattress, his hands resting on his knees, trembling with a palsy that had become...
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