The Golden Greenhouse
The rain hit the pavement. It made a sound like static. Like an old radio losing signal. Elias stood in the alley. He held his hat. The hat was black. The felt was stiff. It had a green rim. He looked at the wall. The brick was wet. The brick was cold. There was a figure in the mirror. It was not a mirror. It was a patch of water on the ground. But it showed a face. The face was Elias’s. The...
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