The Faded Guest
The train moved through the grey mist like a needle stitching a torn sky. Elias sat by the window, his hands wrapped around a ceramic cup of tea that had long since gone cold. He was a man of small habits and smaller ambitions, a clerk in the archives of a city that did not care if he existed. His life was a ledger of neat, unremarkable entries. Payday. Lunch. The quiet hum of the radiator....
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