The Faded Dust
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the windows of the shop into dark, mirrored pools reflecting the cluttered interior, the shelves bowed under the weight of old brass fixtures, tarnished silverware, and boxes of unlabeled screws, a silence so heavy it seemed to press against the eardrums, a silence broken only by the rhythmic, wooden tick of the...
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