The Faded Dust
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that erased the sharp edges of the city and blurred the world into a watercolor of slate and bruised purple, and as I stood in the doorway of my apartment, watching the gutter overflow onto the pavement below, I felt the weight of my own reflection staring back at me from the wet glass, a man hollowed out by the very things he...
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