The Faded Dust
The dust in the town square of Oakhaven did not settle so much as it hung, a suspended haze that coated the tongue and the eyelashes, a physical reminder of the harvest that had failed to materialize. Elias Thorne stood beneath the canopy of the old oak tree, his uniform pressed but faded, his hands clasped behind his back in the rigid posture of a man who had spent twelve years learning that...
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