The Faded Dust
The notice of termination lay on the kitchen table, the paper brittle and stained with a ring of cold coffee, and I read it twice because the first time my eyes had skipped over the word “permanent” as if it were a typo, a clerical error in the bureaucratic machinery that had ground down my career for the last decade. It stated clearly that Elias Thorne, senior patrol officer, was being...
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