The Last Science Writer
## Act I: The Knock The rain in Chicago didn't fall so much as it hovered, a perpetual grey mist that soaked through coats and settled into bones. Jack Morane knew this because he had spent six years in the war learning exactly how cold wet felt, and three years since the war learning how cold lonely felt. His office was on the third floor of a building on South State Street that smelled of...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews