The Pale Letter
The rain did not fall so much as it existed, a persistent, gray veil that soaked into the pores of the stone walls of the Capitol building, a structure that had been designed by men who believed they could build a monument to permanence out of marble and arrogance, but which you now knew, with a certainty that felt like a physical ache in your chest, was nothing more than a carcass, a shell...
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