The Wistful Saga
Clear the square, or lose the pension. Mercedes Almodovar pushed through the crowd, her boots slipping on the wet cobblestones. The magistrate, a heavy man in a wool coat, stood at the center of the fray, shouting orders that no one obeyed. The air smelled of dust and old sweat. Mercedes did not think about the law. She thought about the cold snap that had burst the pipes in the precinct,...
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