The Dust of Despair
The wind in Appalachia didn't blow; it scrubbed. It scrubbed the paint off the houses and the hope off the people. Silas was a man made of dust and silence, living in a shack that leaned against the mountain like a tired dog. He had nothing left but a small plot of rocky land and a memory of a time when the coal mines had actually paid a living wage. The Mayor was the only man in town with a...
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