The Golden Harbor
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the city, a thick, grey mist that seeped into the joints of the bones and settled in the lungs like fine silt. I stood in the shadow of the grand archway at the entrance of the St. Jude’s Correctional Facility for Juveniles, watching the water run in rivulets down the wet stone, each drop a small, silent testament to the decay that had consumed...
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