The Faded Dust
The ground gave way. Not with a scream, but with a sigh. The earth beneath Thomas’s boots softened, turned to slurry, and swallowed his left ankle. He stood frozen. The rain fell in sheets, cold and relentless. It was not a storm. It was a purge. Thomas was a man of order. He had spent thirty years enforcing the boundary. The line between the kept and the lost. The line between the town and the...
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