The Pale Shadows
The rain did not fall. It hung. A gray veil over the town of Ashford. It sat on the shoulders of the old men. It pressed against the glass of the library. It was thick. It was cold. Arthur stood by the window. He held a cup of tea. It was black. It was hot. The steam curled. It died in the air. He watched the street. No one walked. The pavement was wet. It shone like a black mirror. He was...
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