The Distant Machine
October 14th, 1998. The rain has been falling on the marble columns of the Capitol for three days straight, a relentless, gray sheet that turns the world outside into a watercolor smear, blurring the lines between the street and the sky, and I am sitting here in my office, the one with the view of the Potomac that looks like a scar on the earth, writing this to you because I need to get the...
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