The Faded Road
The rain had been falling for three days, a cold, persistent sheet that turned the cobblestones of the Lower Ward into a slick, black mirror reflecting the gaslight and the despair of the men who patrolled it. "You look like a drowned rat, Alderman," I muttered to my companion, wiping a streak of grime from my brow as we huddled beneath the eave of a shuttered apothecary, the smell of wet wool...
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