Seven Notes Toward Oblivion
The fax machine in Jack Morrison's office began printing at 9:14 AM on a Tuesday in April, the paper emerging in jerks, each line of thermal type appearing with the particular reluctance of news that knows it will not be welcome. Jack watched it from his desk, a chipped oak thing he had bought at a prop sale on the Warner Bros. lot in 1982, back when he still believed that proximity to...
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