The Golden Downtown
The train does not so much arrive as it exhales you into the gray, industrial twilight of the city, a long, metallic sigh that settles into the marrow of your bones. You step onto the platform, the air tasting of coal dust and wet iron, and the first thing you see is the spire. It is not golden, not in the way the brochures promised, but it catches the dying light of the afternoon with a...
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