The Pale Fracture
The sky tore open. Not a crack. A split. White light. Blinding. Silence. Then the scream. It came from the ground. Dust. Ash. Cold. Thomas was ten. He stood in the yard. The fence was gone. The oak tree was gone. Only the stump remained. Black. Charred. He smelled smoke. And ozone. And fear. His mother ran. She ran out of the house. Her dress was torn. Her face was gray. "Thomas!" She screamed...
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