The Distant Metropolis
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the streets of the city into a slurry of mud and exhaust, and in the small, windowless office on the fourth floor of the municipal water authority, Elias Thorne sat before a spreadsheet that seemed to breathe with the cold, indifferent weight of the world outside, his fingers hovering over the keyboard like a...
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