The Distant Nightmare
The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a thick, grey curtain that erased the boundary between the sky and the wet stone of the courtyard. Julian sat on the cold flagstones, his hands clasped tight enough to whiten his knuckles, watching the water pool in the cracks of the ancient masonry. He was a man of fifty, though the lines carved around his mouth and the hollows beneath his eyes...
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