The Faded Apartment
Venice does not sleep; it shifts, a heavy stone body settling into the mud, the lagoon breathing out its damp, mineral heat that clings to the skin and rusts the iron. In the narrow, water-stained alleyways of the Dorsoduro, the looms of the silk houses clatter in a rhythmic, ceaseless heartbeat, a sound that has defined the labor of generations, while the canals carry the dark, oily reflection...
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