The Distant Affair
The rain slicked the asphalt of Route 9. It was a black, oily sheet. Officer Dale Miller drove too fast. The wipers screamed. They were broken. He let them go. He held the bottle. A glass vial. Thick amber liquid inside. It hummed. Not a sound. A vibration. It buzzed against his palm. The heat of it seeped through his glove. "Easy, Dale." The voice came from the passenger seat. No one sat...
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