The Faded Frequency
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, though the day of the week felt irrelevant to the gray, suspended quality of the air in the village of Oakhaven, where the mist clung to the cobblestones like a shroud that refused to be shed by the sun, a sun that had not truly risen in three weeks, leaving the town in a perpetual, bruised twilight that seemed to seep into the very marrow of the residents,...
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