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Ed had felt completely off-kilter since his return to Rezembool. Six months shouldn't have been enough to change the farming community, but the train station had been painted green with yellow trim and, in flowerbeds out front, lilies reached their multi-colored throats to the sky overhead. The town seemed to be busier than normal and the stock pens full of lambs and some yearling calves, with skulking, slinky dogs ready to herd them into the train cars. Shepherds were arguing with middlemen over the price of mutton on the hoof, the din more than Ed had expected, sending him on a quick path out of town and toward the even more rural areas.
The sun overhead reminded him he'd had little to eat since yesterday morning, and perhaps one too many whiskeys in the club car last night. The world seemed hazy despite the rich summer sun, making it feel as if he walked through a dream. Dust kicked up soft puffs from his boots on the road and cicadas chirred their repetitive mating call.
Ed licked his dry lips and paused at the turnoff, steadying himself with a hand on the stone fence that kept the Stunkel cattle out of Pinako's yard. A dog barked in the distance and he squinted, seeing the wavering shape resolve itself into Den, trotting down the path to meet him.
For a few seconds, the daze he'd been in lifted – his dog was greeting him, the sun shone down, he could see sheets hanging from the line outside beyond the house.
He was home.
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