The Faded Chronicle
The rain did not fall; it hammered, a relentless industrial drumming against the corrugated tin roof of the Millbrook Community Hall, blending the sound of the downpour with the rhythmic thud of the old steam boilers still ticking in the basement. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool, stale tobacco, and the cloying, medicinal sweetness of boiled willow bark that hung in the...
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