The Distant Metropolis
The rain that morning did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended curtain of gray mist that erased the boundary between the wet pavement of the university quad and the leaden sky above, a visual metaphor for the dissolution of everything that had once seemed solid and unassailable in Elias Thorne’s life, a dissolution that began not with a shout but with the quiet, final act of packing his...
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