Telemachus gazed out across the streets of Ithaca, little lights flickered here and there for most of it, Ithaca seemed to be sleeping. Sighing heavily, Telemachus leaned back and rested his chin on his folded arms. He wished it was always this quiet, this peaceful. He loved Ithaca at night, there were no meetings, or paperwork, or requests for an audience. He didn't have to stress and worry about which was the best course of action. His eyes landed on the sea. Where are you now, father?
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