The Golden Myth
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray sheet that turned the cobblestones of the lower city into a mirror of the sky. You sat in the narrow office of the Department of Civic Hygiene, the air thick with the smell of wet wool and old paper, and you watched the water drip from the eaves onto the street below. Your left hand lay flat on the desk, the fingers spread, the skin...
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