The Distant Metropolis
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world until the stone walls of the priory seemed to breathe with the damp, and I stood in the doorway, watching the mud turn to a slick, treacherous river that swallowed the path leading to the village, my hands trembling not from the cold, which was a sharp, biting thing that settled deep in the...
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