The Wistful Show
The rain fell on the iron roof of the station platform in a steady, gray sheet. It was a sound like static, a low hum that vibrated in the teeth. Elias Thorne stood under the overhang, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore the dark wool coat of the Royal Railway Constabulary. The fabric was wet and heavy. It clung to his shoulders. He was a large man. His frame had been built for the work,...
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