The Faded Road
The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, grey curtain that erased the edges of the city and blurred the world into a smear of wet asphalt and neon. Thomas Bradshaw stood in the middle of the intersection, his hand raised in a gesture that had once commanded absolute obedience but now felt merely like a plea. The traffic did not stop. It surged around him, a river of chrome and...
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