The Faded River
The notice was stamped in red ink, the date smudged by the humidity of the archive room: Property Deed Transfer, Sector 4, Po Valley Agricultural Trust. I held the paper until the edges softened, my fingers damp from the condensation on the filing cabinet. Outside, the fog was rising off the rice paddies, a physical wall of gray that swallowed the road out of town. I am Antonio Ferraro, a night...
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