The Distant Promise
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edges of the city into a watercolor smear of slate and bruised purple. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his fourth-floor office, his reflection ghostly against the glass, watching the street below where the umbrellas opened like black mushrooms in a damp field. He was a man who had spent thirty years...
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