The Pale Letter
Elias Thorne woke with the taste of wet plaster on his tongue, a sensation that clung to the back of his throat like a physical weight, and he lay in the narrow bed of the train car, listening to the rhythmic, hypnotic clatter of the wheels against the iron tracks, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the marrow of his bones and resonate in the hollow chambers of his skull where the words of...
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