The Distant Cartograph
The rain has been falling on the city for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurs the edges of the world into a soft, indistinct smear of water and stone, and you find yourself standing in the doorway of your sister’s apartment, holding a garment bag that feels heavier than wool and thread should ever allow, watching the steam rise from her teacup as she sits across from you, her face...
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