The Distant Joke
The glass in my watch face cracked on the third day, a spiderweb of fractures radiating from the center where the seconds hand had been ticking away my remaining freedom. I did not notice it until I raised my wrist to check the time, the jagged line catching the fluorescent hum of the interrogation room, a bright, brittle scar on the synthetic leather strap. It was a small thing, a piece of...
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