The Rust and the Vine
The trailer sat at the edge of a town that used to have a name but had forgotten it, somewhere between the factory closing and the bank taking the bank and the main street becoming a row of boarded windows and a Dollar General that sold everything except hope. Ray Kowalski lived in the trailer, which was not much bigger than a bus that had given up on being a bus. He was forty-five, Polish, and...
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