The Golden Circuit
The letter was written on the back of a requisition form. The paper was thin, yellowed at the edges, smelling faintly of coal smoke and damp wool. I held it in my right hand, the one that still trembled when the cold seeped into the bones. You asked why I stayed. You asked why I did not run, as the others did, when the light began to pulse in the corridors. I tell you now. I stayed because I...
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