The Golden Visit
The glass was cracked. Not shattered. Cracked. A spiderweb of white lines radiated from the center, where the stem had been. Elias held the tumbler. He watched the light bend through the fractures. It was a Tuesday. The rain fell on the grey roof. He was an expatriate. He had left the city. He had left the past. He was a man of structure. A man of rules. He believed in the integrity of objects....
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