The Distant Legend
The ledger showed forty-three dollars owed to the lumber yard, and Elias Thorne knew the weight of that number in his shoulders before he had even opened his eyes. He lay in the narrow bed above the workshop, listening to the settling of the old floorboards, each creak a small debt paid in timber. The dream was there, as it always was, a gray smear of wood grain that shifted into the hollows of...
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