The Faded Alibi
The train moved through the fog. The fog was thick. It pressed against the glass. Edward looked out. He saw nothing. The engine coughed. Black smoke bled into the white. He sat in the corner. His hands were still. His heart was not. He carried a box. It was small. It was heavy. Inside was a moth. It was dead. Its wings were torn. The gray dust of the car coated its shell. Edward touched the...
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