The Faded Road
The left knee cracks before the pain arrives. It is a dry, brittle sound, like a twig snapping under a boot, and you are on the ground before you can decide to fall. Rain hammers the slate roof of the Oakhaven station, blurring the world into gray streaks. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, and for the first time in twenty years, your body is not an asset. It is a liability. You push yourself up,...
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