The Faded Ruin
The oak tree stood alone in the center of the square. It had been there since before I was born. Now it was gone. Just a stump. A jagged wound in the earth. I walked past it. My boots were heavy. The mud sucked at my heels. I had come to leave. Or to stay. It did not matter anymore. The town was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that follows a scream. My name is Thomas. I was a constable. I...
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