The Distant Clue
The train moves. It moves with a shudder. A deep, bone-rattling groan. You feel it in your teeth. In your marrow. The carriage is a box. A wooden box. Pressed tight against others. The air is thick. Coal smoke. Stale sweat. The scent of wet wool. It clings to you. It will not let go. You sit. You are the immigrant. You are the stranger. Your name is Thomas. It is a small name. It means little...
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