The Faded Apartment
The rain in Seattle did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the city into a blurred watercolor of slate and rust that smeared under the wipers of my patrol car. I sat in the driver’s seat, the engine ticking as it cooled, my hands resting on the steering wheel with a stillness that felt less like calm and more like a held breath, a suspension of time before the next...
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