V-01: The Silent Sonata of Fog
(Style A: Victorian Melancholy) The fog did not merely surround London; it possessed it, a grey shroud that tasted of coal smoke and forgotten promises. Clara stood by the window of her father's decaying townhouse, her fingers tracing the ivory keys of the piano without pressing them. The silence of the house was a heavy thing, echoing the void where her spirit used to reside. Arthur had been...
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