The Distant Crown
The bus stopped in Harrow Creek at dusk. The engine coughed, a dry, rattling sound, and then fell silent. Elias stepped out. His boots hit the gravel. The air smelled of damp earth and diesel. He looked at the station. It was a small, gray box. A sign listed the times. None of them mattered. He walked to the center of town. The streets were quiet. Shop windows reflected the fading light. He...
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