Green Pastures
Act I: The Land The land was dead when Jack Morrison arrived, and he knew it the moment his boots touched the dirt. It was a flat, grey thing—no, not grey, the color of ash, the color of something that had burned and been raked smooth by indifferent hands. The fence posts leaned at angles that suggested surrender, and the soil, when Jack knelt and crumbled it between his fingers, fell apart...
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