The Faded Paradox
The rain in Seattle did not fall so much as it existed, a constant, grey pressure against the window of the moving van. Elias Thorne watched the wipers slice through the mist, the rhythmic *thwack-thwack* marking time like a slow, mechanical heartbeat. He was not a man accustomed to stillness, but the highway had forced a kind of suspension on him, a purgatory between the life he had fled and...
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