The Faded River
The rain had not stopped for three days, a steady, gray sheet that turned the air in the valley into a soup of mud and rot. I stood in the center of the old mill, the floorboards slick beneath my boots, watching the water level rise inch by inch against the stone walls. The building was a skeleton, its roof long since caved in, but the foundation was solid, or so I had told myself for six...
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