The Golden Farce
The rain had not stopped since we left the city, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world until the car itself seemed to be the only solid thing left in the universe. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, watching the wipers sweep back and forth in a hypnotic, futile rhythm. Thomas drove with a calmness that bordered on the unnatural, his...
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