The Faded Attic
The looms in the silk town clattered like the teeth of starving dogs, a rhythmic grinding that shook the dust from the rafters and settled into the creases of the workers’ clothes. In the narrow street where the air smelled of wet wool and stale tea, the sound was a physical weight, pressing against the eardrums of anyone who lingered too long. Dariush Rezaei, a man whose knees clicked with the...
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