The trailer park smelled like wet wood and diesel and the particular kind of despair that comes from
The trailer park smelled like wet wood and diesel and the particular kind of despair that comes from watching your town die one business at a time. Bill Hudson sat on the steps of his trailer with a cup of coffee that had gone cold twenty minutes ago and watched the fog roll in off the mountains the way it always did in October, thick and gray and indifferent to the fact that the coal mine had...
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