The Ink-Stained Truth
I am the man who checks the commas. My name is not important; my title is "Junior Copy Editor," which is a polite way of saying I am the ghost in the machine of the New York Chronicle. I spend ten hours a day in a cubicle that smells of old coffee and ozone, ensuring that the power of the press is spelled correctly. For three months, I watched Arthur Vance, the Editor-in-Chief, build a monument...
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