The Golden Myth
The rain had been falling on the city for three days, a persistent, gray sheet that blurred the edges of the skyscrapers and turned the sidewalks into slick, dark mirrors. Elias Thorne stood in the center of his apartment, holding a ceramic mug that had chipped at the rim years ago, listening to the water drip from the gutter outside. He was a man who had spent forty years teaching history at...
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