The Pale Circus
The rain in Zurich does not fall so much as it hangs, a suspended gray curtain that blurs the distinction between the platform and the sky, and I stood there with the weight of my father’s silver pocket watch pressing against my thigh, the metal cold and unyielding against the damp wool of my trousers. I had traveled four hours from Geneva, a mid-level compliance officer at Halstrom & Vane,...
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