The Faded Apartment
The wool of the coat was pilling, a constellation of tiny, white stars scattered across the deep, melancholy blue of the fabric, and Elias Thorne stood in the center of the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the corporate headquarters, feeling the weight of the garment press down upon his shoulders like a physical manifestation of his own suffocating mediocrity. It was a heavy thing, the coat,...
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