Planes of turquoise shone above
the old-fashioned wooden buildings of Main Street:
the general store: the historic Julian Hotel, built dur-
ing the Gold Rush; and the antique shop on the cor-
ner that beckoned Jack Youngblood like a lighthouse
as he navigated painfully down the street. His head
throbbed and his eyelids seemed to be made of sand-
paper. But inside the shop, comfort waited.
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