The Pale Shadows
The train is already moving. You feel the lurch in your spine, a mechanical shudder that travels up through the steel floor and into your bones. It is a sensation you have mastered, this specific violence of acceleration. You grip the railing. The metal is cold. It is slick with condensation and the grime of a thousand journeys. Outside the window, the world is a smear of gray and rust. The...
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