The Faded Frequency
The rain had been falling on the slate roof of the clinic for three days, a relentless, rhythmic drumming that sounded less like weather and more like the frantic tapping of fingers on a table, waiting for an answer that would never come. I sat in the corner, my back pressed against the cold brick, watching the water bead and run down the glass, distorting the grey landscape of Millhaven into a...
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