Dust and Silence
The beer was warm and tasted like metal, which is what beer tastes like when you drink it sitting on the tailgate of a truck that hasn't run in three years, in a valley that hasn't produced anything in five, with a sky that looks the same as it did yesterday and the day before that and the year before that. Wayne Harlowe didn't mind the taste. He had drunk worse. He had drunk a lot worse....
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