The Architecture of Two Souls
The absinthe in our glasses was the colour of bad decisions, which is to say it was green. I preferred it to wine — wine was for people who believed in moderation, and I had long ago abandoned that particular delusion. It was 1893, and London was a city divided between those who pretended the world made sense and those who knew it did not. I belonged to the second group, which is to say I...
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