The Faded Paradox
You drive the truck. The engine rattles. It is a cold sound. Like bones breaking. You are heading to the mill. The road is wet. It is November. The leaves are gone. The trees are black sticks against the gray sky. Your hands are stiff on the wheel. You have been a cop for twenty years. You know this town. You know every pothole. You know every face. But today feels different. The air is thick....
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