The Faded Root
The sky broke open on a Tuesday. Not metaphorically. The blue fabric of the afternoon tore along the horizon, revealing a void that was not black, but a violent, humming white. People in the parking lot of the Kroger in Ohio stopped their cars. They stood in the gravel, holding half-eaten bagels, staring up. The air tasted of copper and ozone. It smelled like a battery leak. Like old pennies...
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