The Faded Apartment
The ink on the form was still wet when you noticed the cold, a distinct, physical chill radiating from the wool coat hanging on the back of your chair, a dampness that had persisted for three weeks despite the radiator’s relentless clatter and the dry, hot air of the municipal building. You are Arthur Vane, thirty-two years old, a junior clerk in the Department of Civil Records, and you are...
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