The Opium Veil

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2026-06-12 09:55:42 -

The Opium Veil

Manchester, 1845. The city was a blackened lung, exhaling soot and misery over the huddled masses of the industrial revolution. I was a loom-worker, my hands calloused and my spirit worn thin by fourteen-hour shifts. Clara was a fallen flower of the gentry, a woman whose family had lost everything in a gamble of land and pride. We married in a rain-drenched chapel, a union of desperation and...

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