The Faded Dust
The river broke the dam at noon. It was not a gentle release. It was a scream of white water and mud that swallowed the lower fields. Tom saw it from the ridge. He stood still. His feet were rooted in the dirt. The water hit the stone walls of the valley and shattered. Debris flew. Trees snapped like twigs. Tom was twelve. He wore a wool coat that was too big for him. It had belonged to his...
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