The Faded Road
Elias had been dreaming of the rain for forty years, a persistent, rhythmic drumming that seemed to fall not on the roof of his mind, but inside the very chambers of his heart, a sound that he had carried across oceans and through decades of silence, a sound that now, in the dim, amber-lit office of the Bureau of Unclaimed History, mixed with the scratch of his own pen and the low, mechanical...
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