The Pale Verdict
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the city, a thick, oily mist that settled into the pores of our skin and the cracks in the cobblestones of the industrial quarter, blurring the boundary between the solid world and the vapor that rose from the cooling towers of the textile mills. I stood in the doorway of the small, cramped apartment I shared with my wife, Elara, watching the...
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