The Silent Dust
The sky over Nebraska had been the color of a bruised plum for ten years. There were no more birds, no more wind, just a heavy, oppressive stillness that felt like a physical weight on the chest. Samuel sat on his porch, watching the dust settle on his boots. He didn't know why the world was ending; there had been no warnings, no flashing lights in the sky, no declarations of war. People simply...
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