The Wistful Voyage
The house at the end of Sallow Creek had not been sold, but it had been slowly, patiently eaten away by the rain and the indifference of time. It was a structure of brick and timber that had once held a family together, now holding only the silence and the dust. Elias Thorne, a man whose face was mapped with the deep, weary lines of a life spent looking for things that were not there, stood on...
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