The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-18 03:13:07 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray veil that turned the cobblestones of the market square into mirrors reflecting the dim, gaslit lamps. I stood at the edge of the crowd, my hands buried deep in the pockets of my heavy wool coat, watching the procession of carriages that had gathered for the annual charity ball. The air smelled of wet stone and horse manure, a scent...

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