The Golden Farce

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 21:36:47 -

The Golden Farce

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray curtain that smelled of wet iron and the rotting leaves of the autumn, and I stood there on the platform of the terminus station, my hands buried deep within the pockets of my wool coat, feeling the cold seep through the fabric like a slow poison, my right hand trembling with a rhythm that was no longer entirely my own, a...

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