The Distant Metropolis
The fog in the city of Oakhaven did not lift so much as it surrendered, a slow, gray exhalation that clung to the cobblestones and the soot-stained brickwork of the municipal buildings. It was November of 1893, a time when the air tasted of coal dust and impending winter, and I walked the long, echoing corridors of the City Hall with a weight in my chest that had nothing to do with the cold. I...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews