The Distant Clue
Mara walked. The road was red dust. The sky was white. It burned. She carried a staff. It was oak. It was worn smooth. Her hands were raw. The blisters had burst. They bled. Then they scabbed. Then they bled again. It was a cycle. It was the only clock she had. The heat pressed against her skin. It was heavy. It was wet. It smelled of dry grass and old bones. Mara wiped her brow. Her hair was...
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