The Golden Downtown
The rain against the windowpane of the apartment on 4th Street sounded like static, a low, constant hiss that Marcus could not seem to drown out. He stood by the sink, holding the ceramic bowl, turning it over in his hands with the careful precision of a man handling a fragile organ. It was not a valuable object, not by market standards, but it was the last physical trace of his father, Elias,...
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