The Dust Equation
The world was a study in grey. There were no cities left, only the ribs of skyscrapers poking through the ash like the skeletons of forgotten giants. Elias lived in the lee of a collapsed bridge, his only possession a piece of charcoal and a flat slab of slate. Every morning, Elias wrote a word. *Symphony.* *Laughter.* *Azure.* Then, he would wait for the wind. The wind was the only thing that...
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