The Distant Metropolis
The bus groans as it climbs the hill, a rusted beast of industry whose engine coughs up smoke that smells of burnt oil and old rain. You sit in the back row, your hands resting on your knees, fingers stained with the dark, umber traces of the soil you have been turning for the past three hours. The city of Oakhaven stretches out below you, a sprawling mosaic of grey rooftops and brick chimneys,...
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