The Distant Metropolis
The glass mirror, which had once stood as the unblemished eye of our parlor, reflecting the gaslight and the dust motes dancing in the warm, stagnant air, shattered into a thousand jagged constellations not because of a blow, but because of a tremor that seemed to rise from the very foundations of the earth, a subtle shudder that spoke of the deep, grinding gears of time turning against the...
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