The Pale Verdict
The rain does not wash the guilt from your hands. It only makes the grime slicker, harder to grip, as if the earth itself has coated you in a protective layer of filth to keep you from touching the clean world again. You are Thomas, and you are tired. Not the tiredness of the body, which you can rest, but the tiredness of the mind, which is a hollow ache that echoes in the chambers of your...
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