The Golden Song
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the university district into slick, mirror-like traps, and I stood in the doorway of the Archive, my collar turned up against the chill, watching the fog swallow the streetlamps one by one until the world outside was nothing but a vague, pulsing dark and the rhythmic, heavy thud of my own...
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