The Faded Frontier
The dream began with the smell of wet wool and iron. Elias sat in the driver’s seat of the truck, but the truck was not a truck. It was a ribcage of blackened steel, breathing slowly in the dark. He was holding a key, but the key was a tooth, long and yellowed, warm from his mouth. Outside the windshield, the road did not end; it dissolved into a mist that smelled of his wife’s shampoo, that...
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