The Echoes of Grey
The town of Blackwater was less a place and more a lingering bruise on the landscape of the Louisiana bayou. It existed in the periphery of maps, a smudge of humidity and decay where the cypress trees didn't grow so much as they surrendered, their knees sinking into the black muck like the fingers of a drowning giant. For those who remained, the isolation was a choice, a collective agreement to...
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