The Pale Shadows
The rain does not fall so much as it descends, a heavy, grey curtain drawn across the windowpane of the apartment where you have spent the last three years hiding from the sun. You are not entirely awake, nor are you fully asleep; you exist in that liminal, viscous space where the boundaries between the self and the room dissolve, where the dampness of the city seeps into your marrow and the...
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