The Dust of Knowledge
The wind in Oakhaven didn't blow; it scraped. It carried the metallic tang of the abandoned steel mills and the grey dust of a town that had forgotten how to hope. Mr. Gable lived in a house that leaned precariously to the left, filled with books that were more mold than paper. He was a retired teacher who had spent thirty years in the public school system before the funding vanished and the...
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