The Pale Meridian
Chapter One Hiroshi Tanaka stood at the edge of the property line, watching the red paint dry in the cold February air, a task he had known he would fail to complete before the winter truly set in. He remembered the day the surveyor, a man named Kato, first marked the boundary with a can of vermillion, the smell of the solvent sharp and acrid against the damp moss of the lava field. The land...
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