The Distant Summer
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a sound, a low, resonant hum that seemed to rise from the very bedrock of the town of Oakhaven, vibrating through the soles of the boots worn by the men and women who stood on the cobblestones of the central square, their faces upturned toward the smoke that was already churning the pale morning sky into a bruised and swollen mass of gray. Elias...
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