The Faded Guest
Act I Who among the living dares to remain silent when the fog has swallowed the Alfama steps? Ana Pinto stood at the iron gate of the customs house, her fingers white-knuckled against the cold metal, watching the mist roll off the Tagus in thick, gray sheets that promised nothing but erosion. She was thirty-two years old, a border guard with a pension to secure and a debt to the company store...
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