The Faded Alibi
The mud sucked at my boots like a living thing. It was cold. The rain fell in sheets, turning the street into a river of gray sludge. I was bleeding from a gash above my eye. The blood mixed with the water, running hot down my cheek. I could not see well. The world was a blur of stone and shadow. I stood before the gate of the old prison. My hands were bound. My back ached. I had fought them....
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