The Faded Root
The red sap began to bleed from the shale walls of Shaft Four on a Tuesday in November, 1912, the same morning the frost finally bit through the coal dust that had settled in the creases of your lungs like a second skin. You were Sergeant Elias Thorne, forty years old, a man whose spine had been straightened by the weight of the pickaxe and whose pension file was a thin, brittle thing of paper...
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