The Silver Membrane
June 14th, 1892. The fog has returned to London, but it is no longer the soot-stained shroud of the East End. It is something... different. A shimmering, iridescent veil that clings to the cobblestones of Fleet Street, refracting the gaslight into colors that have no name in our tongue. I call it the Silver Membrane. I remember the day the signals arrived. I had spent seven years in this attic,...
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