The Distant Metropolis
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the gravel path behind the infirmary into a slurry of mud and broken leaves that sucked at my boots with a wet, greedy sound. I stood alone in the shadow of the oak tree, its branches heavy with the weight of the storm, watching the gray water run in distinct, angry rivulets toward the ditch. My chest heaved, a ragged mechanical rhythm that felt...
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