The Wistful Atlas
Chapter One The town of Veldt does not smell of rain, but of iron and wet wool. I am Ramon Bermejo, thirty-two years old, and I am a constable. I know this because the badge on my chest weighs four ounces of brass, a weight I have carried for six years. I want to keep my pension. To keep it, I must arrest the man who stole my father’s watch. The watch is silver, heavy, and gone. My left hand is...
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