The Weight of a Single Wing
The town of Oakhaven was a place where time didn't flow; it pooled, stagnant and heavy, like the grey water of the local creek. Sam worked at the only gas station for fifty miles, a rusted island of fluorescent light and the smell of unleaded fuel. He was a man of few words and fewer ambitions, a human shadow who moved through his days with a quiet, rhythmic resignation. He found the sparrow on...
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