The Faded Road
The air in the sub-basement of the Meridian Insurance Underwriting Center did not smell of dust, as one might expect of a place buried beneath the soot-choked streets of late Victorian Manchester, but of ozone and wet copper, a metallic tang that coated the back of the throat and lingered in the sinuses long after one had ascended the spiral stairs to the daylight. It was a smell that suggested...
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