The Faded Apartment
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world outside the window of the library, turning the cobblestones into a mirror of the low, bruised sky. Arthur Penhaligon sat in his high-backed chair, the leather worn smooth by the hands of predecessors long dead, and watched the water trace its slow, inevitable paths down the glass. He was a man...
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