The Faded Alibi
The train from Prague to Vienna hummed a low, mournful note that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of Elias Thorne’s bones, a frequency that matched the hollow ache in his chest where his certainty used to reside. He sat by the window, watching the Central Bohemian landscape blur into a watercolor of grey and bruised purple, the willows leaning over the river like mourners at a funeral they had...
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