The Distant Metropolis
Chapter One "Put the mortar in the trough, Tomas, before the rain turns it to paste." I said this while my hands, which had been steady for forty-two years of structural analysis, trembled so violently that the trowel slipped from my grip and clattered against the wet stone. The sound was sharp, a metallic bite in the humid air, and it seemed to hang there for a second before the low, subsonic...
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