The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-20 01:41:24 -

The rain did not fall. It hovered. A fine, grey mist clung to the glass of the high-rise office, blurring the city into a smear of neon and steel. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the water crawl down the pane. It looked like tears, but colder. Inside, the air was stale, recycled, and tasted of ozone. I was a prisoner of my own ambition. I had built this tower. Brick by...

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