The Distant Metropolis
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the edges of the city into a watercolor of indeterminate sorrow, where the neon signs of the financial district bled their red and blue light into the wet pavement, creating a shimmering, liquid mirror of a world that had long since ceased to care about the individuals who walked its streets, and I stood...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews