The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-25 13:59:16 -

I remember the weight of the iron gate more than the words spoken through it, a heaviness that settled into the marrow of my bones long after the clang faded into the damp air of the street. It was late November in Oakhaven, the year of the great frost, and the cold had a physical presence, a hard, white pressure that bit through my wool coat and made the joints ache with a dull, persistent...

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