The Faded River
The river was a line. It cut the world in two. Thomas sat on the stone. He was wet. The water had risen. It lapped at his boots. They were old leather. They smelled of mud and iron. He looked at the bank. The grass was yellow. The air was cold. It bit his nose. It bit his eyes. He did not blink. He could not blink. The village was behind him. He could not see it. The fog was thick. The fog was...
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