The Faded Bouquet
The rain did not fall so much as it was forced against the earth, a grey, relentless curtain that turned the dirt road into a slurry of brown mud and broken leaves, a substance that clung to the boots of Elias Thorne with a tenacity that felt less like friction and more like a judgment. He stood at the edge of the checkpoint, the fluorescent lights of the booth buzzing behind him, casting long,...
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