The Distant Clue
The air in the reading room of the St. Jude’s Athenaeum smelled of damp limestone and the slow, chemical decay of vellum, a scent that had long since replaced the sharp bite of the ink you once associated with scholarship and had now become the primary medium through which you perceived the world, a thick, suffocating fog that clung to the back of your throat and settled into the crevices of...
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