The Fire Seed
The air in Terrebonne Parish had weight. It pressed against your skin like a damp cloth and tasted of sulfur, brine, and the faint chemical sweetness of something that had once been organic but was no longer. Mercy LeJeune noticed it on the first day, standing at the window of the rental house on Highway 90, and she did not think about it again until the fortieth day, when she could not...
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