The Sisyphus Gavel
The town of Oakhaven was a monument to the banal. Everything was beige: the houses, the cars, the faces of the people who worked in the municipal offices. Leo was a clerk in the Hall of Records, a man whose life was measured in the rhythmic thud of a rubber stamp. For ten years, Leo had lived in the shadow of the Town Council, a small group of men who treated the town's budget as their personal...
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