The Pale Letter
I was on my knees in the dirt beside the old county road when the first stone hit me. It wasn't a big stone, just a piece of gravel that someone had kicked up, but I felt it skip off my shoulder blade and I knew what it meant. I didn't turn around. I kept my hands in the soil where I'd been digging for the better part of an hour, looking for the pale letter. It was a Tuesday in late October,...
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