The Distant Metropolis
The radiator in the hallway had been making a low, rhythmic clank for three days, a metallic heartbeat that seemed to sync with the throbbing in my temples, a sound that had grown so constant I could no longer distinguish it from the silence of the house. I sat at the kitchen table, the wood worn smooth by decades of my father’s elbows, staring at a spot on the grain where a coffee ring had...
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