The Flattening of London
The fog of 1888 did not merely cling to the cobblestones of Whitechapel; it had begun to eat the world. I, Arthur Penhaligon, a man of letters and a student of the unseen, was the first to notice the thinning. It began with a tea saucer—a delicate piece of porcelain that, for one heartbeat, lost its depth and became a mere drawing on the mahogany table. I touched it, and my finger felt not the...
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