THREE STRIPES IN THE RAIN
The unemployment office smelled like wet wool and bad decisions. Ray Kowalski sat on a metal chair that had been bolted to the floor in 1974 and probably wasn't meant to be sat on by people who weighed more than the designers anticipated. He sat anyway. He sat on everything now. Across from him, a woman with a clipboard and a face like she'd been carved from disappointment was saying something...
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