The Distant Garden
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of the Foundry District into a slick, mirror-like surface that reflected the grey, bruised sky. I stood at the window of my office on the fourth floor of the Halcyon Manufacturing Company, watching the water drip from the eaves in a steady, rhythmic tear. Below, the streets were empty, save for a single cart horse waiting by a...
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