The Golden Harbor
The mirror in the hallway was cracked. It had been that way for months, a jagged spiderweb of glass that ran from the top left corner down to the center, bisecting my own face into two unequal halves. I looked at it this morning while buttoning my shirt, a crisp white thing that smelled of starch and anxiety. My reflection stared back, distorted, the left side of my mouth pulled tight, the...
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