The Faded Road
The rain had been falling for three days straight, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the streets of the old industrial district into slick, reflective mirrors where the neon signs of the late-night diners bled their red and blue light into the wet asphalt. Elias Thorne stood on the corner of Fourth and Main, his hands resting on the butt of his service pistol, not out of aggression but out...
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