The Golden Quest
The coal smoke in the Midland Freight Depot did not merely fill the air; it settled into the lungs, into the weave of the woolen coats, into the very grain of the woodwork, until the entire office existed as a suffocating, amber-colored tomb where time had ceased to flow and only the slow, grinding tick of the clock on the wall marked the passage of hours that felt like centuries. Elias Thorne,...
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