The Distant Threshold
Act I Did the shadow move before the man did, or did the man finally learn to move fast enough to catch it? Simin Tehrani stood in the boiler room of the Khorramshahr mill, the soot of twelve centuries clinging to his skin like a second, heavier coat. The air hung with the damp, metallic taste of cold iron and wet snow, a chill that settled deep in the marrow, indifferent to the heat of the...
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