The Distant Metropolis
The elm trees in the garden of the Ashworth house did not die, as the town council claimed they had, but they stood in a rigid, silent line along the perimeter of the property, their leaves a dull, unwavering green that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Thomas, who was eleven years old and possessed of a quiet, watchful temperament that his father often mistook for sullenness,...
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