The Distant Garden
The highway cut through the coal country like a fresh wound, splitting the town in two, and the trucks idled in long lines, their exhaust thickening the air with diesel and wet wool. On the north side, the flood plains lay flat and grey, waiting for the spring melt that never came, while the laundromat on the corner bled quarters into the rain, one by one, into the gutter. Seo-yeon Jung stood...
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