The Faded Road
The hammer fell. It struck the nail with a dull, wet thud. The wood splintered. Not much. Just a crack. Like a bone. Elias wiped his brow. The sweat stung. The air in the shop was thick. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light. They swirled. They did not settle. They hovered. He looked at the door. It was an old door. Oak. Heavy. It had belonged to a house on the hill. A house that was...
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