The Distant Summer
Mara woke with the taste of iron on her tongue. The ceiling above her was not the plaster of her childhood home but the warped wood of a train car. Outside, the rain hammered against the glass, a relentless, static hiss that blurred the world into a smear of grey and green. She sat up. Her head throbbed. A sharp, bright pain, like a nail driven into the temple. She looked down at her hands....
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