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In the Dark

by on Jun 5, 2012 in Short Fiction | 0 comments

By Ian Nichols Oh. Listen to the music. Men winding their way home, tired as a birth, tired as a death. The slow death in the mines. Half-broken from cramped agony chopping coal with blunt tools. In the dusk, a choir to sing their way home to sad streets and towns. From the pithead to...

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