The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-24 13:58:46 -

The Golden Mirror

The rain in Harrow’s End did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the sharp edges of the cobblestones and softened the jagged teeth of the rooftops into a uniform smear of slate and lead. I sat in my office, the one that smelled perpetually of damp wool and stale tobacco, watching the droplets race down the windowpane, each one a small, desperate attempt to escape...

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