The Faded Photograph
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the boundaries between the cobblestones of the old quarter and the mud that swallowed the shoes of the desperate poor, and it was in this deluge, with my boots soaking through and my coat heavy with the scent of wet dog and decay, that I found the ledger, a book of leather so old it felt like holding a dried...
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