The Distant Machine
The train shudders to a halt in the grey belly of the city, a metallic groan that vibrates through the soles of your boots and settles deep in your marrow, a sound that feels less like machinery and more like the exhale of a dying god, and you step out into the rain that falls with a persistent, indifferent rhythm, soaking the coat you have worn for so long it has become a second skin, a second...
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