The Faded Frequency
The radio hummed, a low, wet drone that sounded less like machinery and more like a living thing dragging its breath through the static. I wrote the date in the margin of the logbook, my hand trembling not from the cold, which had seeped into the bones of the old farmhouse since the heating system gave up its ghost three days prior, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence that had...
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