The Pale Fracture
You leave the coast at dawn. The fog is thick. It tastes of salt and rust. You do not look back. You carry the heavy iron box. It is cold. The weight is familiar. It is the weight of your marriage. It is the weight of your duty. The train moves. It rattles. It shakes. The wheels scream against the steel. You sit in the corner. Your eyes are closed. You are not sleeping. You are waiting. The...
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