The Distant Legend
The rain in this part of the valley does not fall so much as it presses down, a heavy, gray hand against the glass, blurring the world outside into a smear of mud and wet asphalt. You are standing in the archive room of the municipal records office, the air thick with the smell of decaying paper and the faint, metallic tang of old dust. It is a place of silence, a sterile box of concrete and...
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