The Faded Attic

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2026-08-19 23:06:35 -

The Faded Attic

The rain stopped. It did not fade or taper off. It simply ceased, as if the sky had been cut with a knife. I stood on the roof of the station, looking down at the tracks below. My left hand hung at my side. It was empty. Not bare. Empty. I could feel the phantom weight of the pistol that had been there an hour ago. I could feel the recoil. I could feel the heat. But the gun was gone. The hand...

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