The Distant Promise
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey curtain over the town of Oakhaven, blurring the edges of the cobblestones and the jagged silhouettes of the Victorian row houses into a single, trembling smear of wet slate. I stood on the porch, watching the drops streak down the glass of the front door, feeling the cold seep through the wool of my coat, a chill that had nothing to do...
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