The Distant Metropolis
The train had already pulled away when Thomas realized he had left his watch on the kitchen table, a small, ticking testament to the life he was abandoning. He did not go back for it. The station was empty, the platform wet with a rain that seemed to fall not from the sky but from the air itself, a pervasive dampness that soaked into the wool of his coat and settled in the marrow of his bones....
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