The Pale Mist
The ink on the intake forms bled not with water, but with a viscous, gray sludge that smelled of sulfur and old copper. Elias Thorne, Inspector of Municipal Gasworks, sat in his office on the fourth floor of the Oakhaven Exchange, watching the signature of Director Halloway on the termination notice dissolve into a swirling vortex of mist that defied the dry, heated air of the room. He had been...
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