The Faded Frontier

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2026-08-19 16:22:12 -

You are not a ghost. You are a stain. The office is white. The light is flat. It hums in your teeth. You sit at desk four. The chair is cold. You are Margaret. You are also something else. The air tastes of dust and ozone. The clock ticks. Tick. Tick. Tick. It is three in the afternoon. Eleanor sits across from you. She wears a blue suit. It fits too well. Her face is smooth. It has no pores....

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