The Silent Alphabet
(Variant V-01: Victorian Melancholy) The fog of London did not merely drift; it possessed the city, a grey, suffocating shroud that tasted of coal smoke and desperation. In the bowels of Spitalfields, where the cobblestones were perpetually slick with a mixture of rain and filth, there existed a sanctuary that the world had forgotten. It was a cellar, damp and smelling of mildew, illuminated by...
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