The Golden Downtown
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that erased the boundary between the interior of the holding cell and the wet, rotting world beyond the barred window, and I sat upon the cold concrete floor, my knees drawn up to my chest, feeling the dampness seep through the fabric of my trousers until it became a second skin, a cold and clammy shroud that clung to my...
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