The Pale Shadows
The truck idled in the gravel lot, the engine a low, persistent thrum that vibrated through the soles of Cal’s boots. It was a Tuesday. Or maybe a Wednesday. The days had begun to blur into a single, gray smear of work and silence. Cal looked at the warehouse. It stood empty, its vast ribs of steel exposed to the October wind. For thirty years, this place had been his home. Not a house, but a...
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