The Distant Promise
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain drawn tight against the windows of the moving carriage. Inside, the air tasted of wet wool and ozone. Elias sat in the corner, his coat buttoned to the chin, watching the tracks blur into a single, dark vein stitching the earth together. He was not afraid of the dark. He was afraid of the silence that followed it. His hands rested on his...
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