The Pale Meridian
The iron blade did not sing, it groaned, a low, tectonic hum that resonated through the marrow of the man’s bones as he drove the point into the earth, the metal screaming against the resistance of the soil, the vibration traveling up his arms, into his shoulders, settling in the center of his chest like a second, heavier heart. He was old, this man, though his face was not yet lined with the...
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