The Distant Metropolis
The rain has been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that turns the cobblestones of the industrial district into slick, black mirrors reflecting the soot-stained brick of the textile mills, and you stand in the center of the alley, your back against the cold damp wall, your hands trembling not from the chill but from the terrible, humming weight of the woolen coat you are wearing, a...
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