The Distant Summer
The road that cut through the black pine forest was not merely a path but a scar in the earth, a long, jagged wound that bled mud and memory as you walked it, your boots heavy with the silt of centuries past, and you, Thomas, moved through the twilight with the grim inevitability of a tide coming in, the air thick with the scent of rotting leaves and the metallic tang of old blood that seemed...
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