The Faded River
The letter lay on the desk, the ink still wet, the words bold and final: *Retirement Eligibility Confirmed.* Elias read it twice, the paper trembling slightly in his grip, not from fear, but from the sudden, crushing weight of the silence that followed the reading. He was thirty-four. In this city, that was young to stop, but the needle in his pocket had begun to spin again, a frantic, metallic...
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