The Distant Metropolis
The sky above the Appalachian ridge did not break; it dissolved, a bruised purple hem bleeding into the twilight as the first tremor of the storm hit the hollow, shaking the dust from the eaves of the abandoned farmhouse where Elias Vance sat with his back against the rotting oak door, his rifle resting across his knees like a sleeping dog. He was not a soldier in the traditional sense, not...
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