The Witness of the Green
I remember the day he arrived in the valley. He was a thin boy with eyes that seemed to look through you, as if he were seeing a different version of the world. He took over the old pumping station, a place we had all given up on decades ago. We called him the "Strange Boy," and for the first few months, we mostly ignored him. Then the green started. It began as a smudge of emerald on the...
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