The Distant Affair
The fog did not roll in so much as it accumulated, a dense, grey slurry that pressed against the windows of the municipal archive with the weight of a damp wool blanket, muffling the sound of the harbor bells and turning the world outside into a vague, indistinct smear of salt and stone. Elias Thorne sat at his desk, the wood scarred by decades of ink stains and the nervous tapping of pens, his...
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