The Distant Crown
The jar was heavy, heavier than glass should be, and it burned against Elias’s palms like a coal wrapped in wax. He stood on the gravel platform of the rural station, watching the tail lights of the train dissolve into the grey morning mist, his father’s figure already a blur, then a ghost, then nothing at all. In his hands, the hive hummed, a low, persistent vibration that traveled up his...
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