BELOW THE SALT | The hopeful gallery

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They didn’t say much through the walk, both comfortable enough with each other to stay within their own minds. Amelia glazed over the constantly multiplying missing posters that painted the walls of the village, with mournful flowers being tied to the surface in a defiant attempt to not let the flood take them as well. As they passed, she easily picked out the posters she had put up a while back, enveloped in damp plastic sleeve to protect it from the putrid air.