The Pale Path
"Wait for the police, Kostas. The law is the law." I told him the law was a piece of paper, and I was the man holding the bleeding girl. We were standing in the assembly room, the air thick with the steam from the pie factory line just outside, the clocks on the wall disagreeing by three minutes, four minutes, the time stretching thin as the sea fret that had erased the town an hour ago. My...
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