The Wistful Petal
The sky above the Appalachian ridge did not turn black so much as it ceased to exist, a sudden and total deletion of light that left you standing in the center of the pine forest with the taste of copper and ozone thick on your tongue. You were not a soldier, not in the way that history books would later define the rank and file of the conflict that had just erupted, yet you felt the weight of...
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