The Faded Paradox
The rain hit the asphalt in sheets. It was cold. Maren pulled her coat tighter. She walked fast. Her heels clicked. The sound was sharp. It cut through the noise of the city. The city was grey. It was always grey. The sky was low. It pressed down on the buildings. The buildings were tall. They were dark. Maren stopped. She looked at the door. It was blue. It was peeling. The number was seven....
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