The Distant Promise
The rain hit the windowpane in staccato bursts. Sharp. Cold. Maud pressed her forehead against the glass. It was ice. Her breath fogged the pane. The mist spread. It swallowed the view. Outside, the town slept. Or so it seemed. The fog was thick. It rolled in from the harbor. It ate the streetlights. It ate the houses. It ate the truth. Maud turned away. Her hand trembled. She reached for the...
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