The Wistful Mountain
The fog does not merely obscure; it asserts, a thick, wet wool that swallows the headlight beams of your patrol vehicle until the world is reduced to a ten-foot radius of gray nothingness. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a man who has spent two decades measuring the distance between order and chaos, and you are driving toward the winter freeze that will seal the mountain passes and,...
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