The Wistful Show
The ledger on Elias Thorne’s desk held three hundred and twelve entries, each one a small, dry weight against the grain of the paper, and he had been counting them for the fourth hour of the morning, his fingers tracing the indented lines as if they were stitches in a wound that would not close. He was fifty years old, a senior border patrol officer with twenty-eight years of service to his...
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