The Golden Scar
The train did not arrive on time, nor did it ever seem to leave, existing in a perpetual state of rusted suspension above the valley floor where the town of Oakhaven sat like a bruise on the green flesh of the hills. Thomas had walked for three days to reach the platform, his legs aching with a dull, rhythmic throb that mirrored the distant, muffled clatter of the tracks, carrying with him the...
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