The Wistful Show
Chapter One The city of Vael did not breathe; it wheezed. Rashid Othman felt the rattle in his own chest, a dry, grinding friction that matched the clatter of the overhead trams. He stood on the terrace, the wind stripping the last dry leaves from the broom trees, and watched the smoke thicken over the industrial quarter. It was harvest weather, but the air was too heavy for the grain to dry...
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