It fades too slow. A sweep of the flashlight, a wary eye to the treeline, the single small shack, that broken fence that no one tore down yet, and the thing is, it ain’t wrong entirely, it might
Chapter 8: . Seth was writing in the living room at sunset. Behind him a long shadow began to appear. It stretched across the living room wall, tall and narrow, with one arm raised above its head. He
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