The Pale Shadows
The coat hung in the corner of the small, drafty apartment, a dark silhouette against the pale wallpaper. It was a heavy thing, woven from wool that had once been crisp but now felt like wet stone, smelling faintly of iron and old smoke. I did not touch it. To touch it would be to acknowledge the weight of what I had carried, and I had been carrying it for three days without sleep, without...
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