The Pale Shadows
The rain does not fall so much as it hangs, a fine, grey mist that erases the distinction between the asphalt of the service road and the wet earth of the heath beyond. You are driving the truck, a vehicle that feels less like a machine and more like a heavy, breathing animal that knows your exhaustion. Your hands, still stained with the faint, indelible grey of the calibration fluid, rest on...
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