The Golden Downtown
The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell with a persistent, drumming rhythm against the slate roof of the schoolhouse, blurring the world beyond the windows into a smear of grey and green. I sat at the back of the classroom, my legs too short for the chair, watching the condensation bead on the glass. My name was Elias, and I was seven years old, though the air in the room felt heavy...
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