The Faded River
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist that turned the grey skyline of the city into a watercolor of indistinct shapes and trembling edges, and you stood at the window of the high-rise office, watching the world dissolve into a blur of neon and wet asphalt, your reflection a ghostly overlay upon the glass, a young man with eyes too old for his face and a heart that had...
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