The Distant Affair
The rain did not fall; it hung, a suspended gray veil over the village of Oakhaven, thick enough to chew, heavy enough to sink the breath in one’s lungs. Elara stood at the edge of the black pond, her bare feet sinking into the cold silt, while the mud clung to her shins like the fingers of the dead. She was not afraid. Fear was a luxury for those who still believed in the sanctity of the...
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