The Meridian Engine
ACT I: THE GIFT The war had given Marcus Johnson two things: a Croix de Guerre and a wound that never healed. Both were pinned to the wall of his apartment above the speakeasy on 125th Street, and both were starting to feel like decorations rather than honors. It was April 1924, and Harlem was exploding. Jazz poured from every doorway on 125th Street like water from a broken pipe. The Cotton...
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