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... lowing gentle light to spill generously down to the dreary landscape of the pit town.

Wooden shacks stooped under its weight as if they weren’t used to bearing light for a change, and what few men lounged about the entrance of the mountain seemed too tired to pay any attention to it. Hands smeared, fingers calloused and torn by hours of hard work, wrinkles etched deep into their faces like cuts left from a sharp dagger — they were a ragged bunch troubled with today’s work ahead.

...

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