The Faded Dust
Elias Thorne, you’re standing there like a statue with a drink in your hand, and if you don’t finish that glass and come to the head table, I will have you written up for insubordination before the night is even halfway through. The voice of Sergeant Miller cut through the clatter of silverware and the low hum of the retirement banquet, sharp and bureaucratic, a sound that belonged to the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews