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Weekly Contest #79
The trains clattered and rattled on rails that had weathered too many rains, seen too many winters. Jeya wrapped her shawl more securely around herself, squinting in the early morning light to make out the time on the station clock. Five to six in the morning. The sun was begrudgingly making its way up from the horizon. Soon its rays would spear the sky like a million soldiers streaking onto a battlefield, and the memory of the night would be lost to the bustle and braying of a busy day.But that moment was yet to come, and the day was still ...
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