The Pale Shadows
The elm tree in the center of the square had been dying for as long as Elias Thorne had been living in the house at the edge of the town, its bark peeling away in long, papery strips that fluttered to the ground like the shed skin of a creature that had finally decided to leave. Elias stood now in the kitchen, his hands resting on the cold edge of the wooden table, watching the leaves turn from...
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