The Pale Fracture
The train shuddered. It was a cold, iron beast. The wheels screamed against the tracks. A high, thin note. It drilled into the bone. Elias sat by the window. His hands were in his lap. They were still. He wore a gray wool coat. It had been his father’s. Now it was his. The fabric was thin. It hung loose on his frame. The elbows were patched. The color had faded to a pale, sickly beige. It...
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