The Distant Crown
The rain in the valley did not fall so much as it hung, a grey, suspended curtain that soaked into the wool of your coat and chilled the bone of your wrist, and you walked with your eyes fixed on the muddy track ahead because if you looked up to the sky you would see the thing that was breaking you and so you kept your gaze low, on the wet stones and the bruised leaves, while the sound of your...
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