The Golden Farce
The siren died. The building shook. Dust fell from the ceiling like gray snow. I stood in the lobby. My hand was steady. My heart was not. I am a police officer. I carry the badge. I carry the gun. I carry the weight of the law. The law is a wall. It is solid. It is just. Or so I was told. The fire had been strange. The firemen called it anomalous. The heat was cold. The smoke was blue. It...
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