The Golden Downtown
The fluorescent lights in the server room hummed at a frequency that I felt in my teeth more than I heard with my ears, a persistent, low-grade vibration that seemed to sync with the arrhythmia beginning to stutter through my chest. I was thirty-four years old, a senior systems architect at Meridian Logistics, and I was dying of a lung condition that the doctors called "idiopathic pulmonary...
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