
Patrick Bruce
Joined February 2021
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The day had begun without particular note. A drizzly mist welcomed him when he left his house but had developed into heavy, plump drops. Using reflections from streetlights as a guide in the darkness, Fib tried to stay out of the puddles, but the damp was already in his socks and he knew the chilly clamminess between his toes would now be with him until he got home that evening.
By Patrick Bruce5 years ago in Futurism
