The Wistful Skyline
The silver fox was eating my shadow again. It did not chew with hunger, but with the slow, deliberate patience of a creature that had all the time in the world to digest the dark shape of my feet. I woke with the taste of iron on my tongue, the sheets twisted around my legs like roots. My name is Elias Thorne, and I am thirty-two years old. I am a border patrol officer, and I want the promotion...
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