The Faded Quadrant
The train groaned like a dying beast as it shuddered to a halt in the station, the hiss of steam escaping into the cold, wet night air wrapping around my shoulders with a damp, clinging chill that seeped through my wool coat and settled deep in my bones. I stepped onto the platform, my boots heavy with the mud of the journey, and looked up at the clock tower which stood silent and accusing...
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