The Golden Harbor
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain drawn tight against the windowpane. Outside, the city of Harrowgate breathed its industrial sigh, the smokestacks of the tanneries exhaling plumes of acrid vapor into the low, bruised sky. I sat at the edge of the mahogany desk, my hands folded over the cold wood, feeling the tremor in my fingers that no amount of tea could still. Across...
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