The Distant Legend
The glass shard cut deep. It was a jagged thing, blue as a winter sky. Margaret held it in her palm. The blood welled up. It was thick and dark. She did not pull it out. She looked at it. She looked at the road. The truck was gone. Dust hung in the air. It settled on her coat. Her husband, David, was gone. He had been driving. She had been in the passenger seat. The car had rolled. The window...
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