The Distant Journey
The name was not shouted, but it hung in the air of the archive room with the weight of a stone dropped into deep water. "Thomas." It came from the corridor, muffled by the heavy oak doors, yet it cut through the hum of the climate-control units with surgical precision. I did not turn. I kept my eyes on the ledger, my pen hovering over the column of accession numbers, the nib dry, the paper...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews