The Distant Whispers
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the gravel shoulder of the highway into a slurry of mud and broken stone, and Elias stood there with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his heavy wool coat, watching the taillights of the sedan fade into the whiteout until they were indistinguishable from the fog, leaving him alone with the silence that...
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