The Wistful Skyline
The carriage wheels groaned against the cobblestones of Whitechapel, a sound like old bones snapping under weight. Elias Thorne sat in the corner, his hands folded tightly in his lap, watching the rain streak the dirty glass. He was a clerk at the firm of Halloway and Sons, a man of middle years and middle mind, whose life had been a series of quiet, unremarkable days spent counting ledgers and...
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