The Faded Sutra
The dream is not of the office, but of the foundation, a vast subterranean cavern where the bones of the city lie exposed like the ribs of a leviathan, and you are standing on a platform of cracked marble that is slowly, inexorably, dissolving into the black water below. You are wearing your suit, the charcoal wool damp with sweat, the tie tight as a noose, and in your hand you hold a document,...
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