The Golden Downtown
The bus hissed to a stop on the wet asphalt of Harrowgate, the steam rising in ghostly plumes that curled around your ankles like the tentacles of some submerged, forgotten sea creature. You stepped out into the chill, the air tasting of iron and rain, your hands buried deep in the pockets of a coat that had seen better decades, if not better lives. The town was not what you remembered, nor was...
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