The Dark Wall
ACT I: THE GHOST COUNTDOWN The rain in New York doesn't wash anything clean. It just makes the grime slicker. I was sitting in my office on Canal Street, watching the neon from a bar across the way reflect off the puddles on the sidewalk, when the phone rang. It was a bad hour, a bad street, and a bad city. But it was my office, and the phone kept ringing, so I answered it. The voice on the...
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