The Golden Myth
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended curtain of grey water that blurred the edges of the city into a single, trembling smear of neon and asphalt, and I stood in the center of the intersection with my hand still wrapped around the hilt of a weapon that no longer existed in this world, my knuckles white and raw, feeling the phantom vibration of a discharge that had not come,...
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