The Distant Ghost
The letter lay on the steel table, the ink still wet where the signature had been pressed. It was a notice of termination, crisp and white against the dark, oily metal. I read it twice, the words blurring in the steam that hung in the air of the foreman’s office. My pension was void. The debt to Elara’s father, for her medicine, remained. Outside, the light was failing, the long shadows of the...
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