The Faded Apartment
The soil in the clay pot was dry and cracked, a map of tiny fissures that Elias Thorne smoothed with his thumb as he walked out of the Halloway Textile Mill for the last time. The air outside tasted of wet slate and coal smoke, a sharp, metallic bite that settled in the back of his throat before the gray morning light even reached the cobblestones. He clutched the orchid against his chest, its...
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