The Distant Temple
The rain fell on the county road with the persistence of a debt that could not be repaid, a gray, industrial sheet that blurred the horizon and turned the world into a smear of rust and mud. Margaret Holloway sat in the passenger seat of the station wagon, her hand resting on the door panel, feeling the vibration of the engine through her knuckles. The car smelled of wet wool and old tobacco, a...
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