The Faded Road
Elias’s hand trembled as he tightened the strap of his rifle case, the leather creaking under the strain of his grip. The dream had left a residue, a fine gray dust that seemed to settle in the creases of his knuckles, smelling of woodsmoke and wet earth. He wiped it on his trousers, a futile gesture, and checked the time on the digital clock mounted above the desk. 06:14. The light in the...
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