The Faded Dust
The rain did not wash the mud clean; it merely turned the earth into a thick, sucking slurry that swallowed the boots of anyone who dared step off the packed dirt path, and I stood there in the yard of the Blackwood manor, watching the water bead on the dark, rotting wood of the front door, knowing that every second I spent standing still was another second added to the file that would...
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