The Pale Banner
The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell on the town of Harrow’s End like a gray shroud, soaking into the cobblestones and the rotting wood of the houses. Elias stood at the window of his shop. He watched the street. The water ran in thin, angry channels. He did not move. He had not moved in hours. He was not human. He knew this. The mirror in the back room showed a face that shifted...
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