The Distant Blade
Chapter One Huseyin Bulut scrubbed the soot from the iron stove with a rag that had once been white, the friction sharp against the metal, the smell of burnt coal thick in the air. He was thirty, a clerk in the municipal records office, and his hands were rougher than they should have been for a man who spent his days with a fountain pen. The kitchen was small, the walls sweating condensation,...
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