The Golden Master
The rain did not fall so much as it was poured from the sky, a thick, metallic curtain that turned the world into a blur of grey and rust. I walked with the heavy, deliberate gait of a man who has forgotten how to move without purpose, his boots striking the wet cobblestones of a street that had no name. This was not the London I knew, nor the London of any history book I had ever read. It was...
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