The Faded Chronicle
The rain had been falling on the grey asphalt of the district for three days straight, a relentless, drumming percussion that seemed to vibrate through the soles of Margot’s worn boots and up into the marrow of her bones, a constant reminder of the damp, decaying world she had been trapped in for the last six months, a world where the air tasted of rust and old paper and where the shadows in...
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