The Pale Shadows
The dust in the rotunda of St. Jude’s Municipal Hall did not merely settle; it hung in the shafts of late afternoon light like suspended time, a fine, gray particulate that coated my spectacles and the leather binding of my survey notes. I stood before the central oculus, my forty-year-old body aching with the familiar, grinding stiffness in my lower back, a physical reminder that the years...
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