The Faded Apartment
The air in the conservatory was thick with the scent of rotting jasmine and the metallic tang of old copper, a suffocating mixture that seemed to settle into the pores of Margaret’s skin as she stood before the shattered glass of the east-facing window. Outside, the industrial sprawl of New London churned in a perpetual haze of coal smoke, the chimneys of the textile mills belching black plumes...
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