The Pale Fracture
The air in the town of Oakhaven tasted of rust and wet ash, a metallic tang that coated the back of the throat and lingered there long after the breath had passed. It was a smell that had become indistinguishable from the scent of the people themselves, a pervasive odor of industry that had seeped into the pores of the brick and the bones of the residents. The mill, a monolith of soot-stained...
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