The Pale Banner
The whistle blew. It was a sharp, industrial shriek that cut through the fog clinging to the valley floor. Elias turned his back on the train. He did not look at the platform, where his brother stood holding a lantern. The light was weak, trembling against the damp air. Elias walked into the dark. The ground was soft, packed with the residue of coal dust and old mud. His boots crunched with...
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