The Echo of the Plains (V-13: Minimalist Realism)
Ray worked at a gas station in a town in Nebraska that the map had forgotten. The wind blew across the plains in a steady, indifferent hum, carrying the scent of dry grass and diesel. Ray was fifty-four, and his life was a series of repetitions: the chime of the door, the smell of cheap coffee, the same three conversations with the same five regulars. He lived in a trailer that smelled of old...
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