The Faded Apartment
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that clung to the wool of Elias Thorne’s coat and seeped into the bones of the old city. He stood on the corner of Vesper Street, watching the water darken the cobblestones, his reflection warped and trembling in a puddle near the curb. It was a Tuesday in late autumn, the year 1893, though the date felt less like a marker...
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