Debbie Tully Lipscomb

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The sunset glowed like a long thread of orange laced through the pines, transforming the woods, and making them appear as if they were on fire. The sight gave him a shiver, like he was actually seeing trees burning, and he had a sense of impending doom. It was a feeling he couldn’t shake, so much so his sleep was fitful, and before he knew it, dawn came again.
The Saints of Swallow Hill
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