The Pale Banner
The rain had been falling on the city for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the pavement into a mirror of shattered reflections and dampened the scent of the bakery on the corner into something stale and sweet, like old bread left in a damp cellar. I stood in the center of my workshop, the air thick with the smell of linseed oil and dust, watching the light fade through the...
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