https://1000days.douglasblaine.com/20080513/what-kind-of-choir/
Jackern resisted the urge to scrawl his signature in florid loops across the agreement. He guessed he’d always recognize and deny each moment his old self surfaced.
Condorre cleared his throat.
Jackern constrained his name to the space allotted him among the other—credentialed— generals. When Kate strode up he placed the pen in her hand. He made a point to brush the skin of her palm with his fingers but not look to her eyes. Maybe he could extend something from what had happened between them at Lan Caloon. Not today though, not yet anyway.
Sunlight streamed through the oculus like honey poured from a jar. Condorre embraced him and patted his back once he descended the few steps and joined him in the circled group. It was a good day inside and out.
“Your father would have been proud, Jack.”
“My father would have set fire to my house and raped my wives had I any.”
“That too.”
170 words on day 598