The Distant Temple
The train coughed smoke into the grey sky. I stepped onto the platform. The air tasted of coal and damp wool. My brother was not there. I walked. The town of Oakhaven was small. It was old. The bricks were red and stained. The windows were dark. I carried a box. It was light. It contained only my father’s watch. And a letter. I was an outsider here. My skin was the wrong shade. My voice had the...
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