The Distant Legend
The eviction notice lay on the dashboard, a pale rectangle of official paper that seemed to absorb the grey light of the afternoon, its edges curling slightly as the heater inside the cruiser sputtered and died. You, Elias Thorne, fifty-two years old with a knee that had begun to betray you three winters ago, stared at the document as if it were a live grenade, the signature of the county clerk...
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