The Pale Tower
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that settled into the pores of Margaret’s skin and the crevices of her clothes. She sat in the waiting room of the Department of Civic Hygiene, a low-ceilinged office in the basement of the municipal building, where the walls were painted a sterile, institutional white that seemed to drain the color from the world. The...
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