The Distant Affair
The rain did not fall so much as it dissolved, a fine, gray mist that seeped into the very marrow of the bones, eroding the distinct boundaries between the living and the dead, between the solid ground and the void beneath. Thomas Bradshaw sat on the edge of a rusted iron bench in the middle of a desolate parking lot, his hands clasped tightly around a cracked ceramic mug that had once been...
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