The Archive of Hollow Rooms
The fog on Charing Cross Road did not roll in so much as it descended, heavy and yellow, like steam from a boiler that had been left to run too long. Daniel Hayes watched it from his window, gin in hand, the glass warm from his palm. Four years. Four years since the Celestial Mechanism Company had told him his services were no longer required, and four years of gin and silence and the kind of...
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