The Pale Verdict
The rain had not stopped for forty days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the streets of Boston into a network of sluggish, brown arteries, and it was in this damp, suspended time that I found the first anomaly in the soil composition of the basement, a subtle shift in the pH levels that spoke not of decay, but of a strange, aggressive vitality, which I noted in my log with the detached...
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