The Distant Ghost
Chapter One Did you ever wonder if a name is heavy enough to sink a boat? I ask you this because I am the one who has to carry it, and the river is wide, and the mist is hungry. I am Anirut Kaewkla. I am twelve years old, though my hands feel older, roughened by the loom weights and the cold iron of the workshop where I work for the translator. The year is without a real winter; the air in...
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