The Distant Metropolis
The rain in Seattle did not fall so much as it hovered, a persistent mist that clung to the glass and the skin alike, blurring the boundary between the inside of the building and the gray expanse beyond. Elias Thorne stood before the mirror in the narrow bathroom of his studio apartment, his hands trembling not from cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the debt that sat in his gut like...
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