The Distant Cartograph
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, gray mist that clung to the wool of Julian’s coat and seeped into the marrow of his bones as he walked the wet, slush-covered pavement of the city, his boots making a squelching sound that echoed in the narrow alleyways where the neon signs of the late-night pharmacies bled their red and blue light into the puddles. He was a man who...
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