The Distant Affair
The ledger said four hours until the shift change, but the clock on the wall had stopped at 3:00 AM, its hands fused by rust. I counted the minutes by the drop of water from the leaky pipe in the corner. One, two, three. The water hit the bucket with a sound like a knuckle rapping on a door. I was Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and I had nineteen years of service to show for it. Nineteen...
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