The Distant Metropolis
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray sheet that blurred the boundary between the street and the sky, turning the small coastal town of Oakhaven into a watercolor wash of slate and charcoal. You sat at your desk in the basement office, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and old paper, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as if it were a cold instrument you were...
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