The Faded Guest
Chapter One Orla Joyce remembered the smell of the steam before the heat hit her face. It was the smell of wet wool and old iron, a scent that had seeped into the lining of her coat and refused to wash out. She stood in the shadow of the Burren’s stone country, where the landscape looked like a bay of stranded whales, and watched the factory chimney belch grey smoke into the damp morning. The...
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