The Golden Master
The alarm does not ring; it screams, a jagged tear in the fabric of the silence that has held you in its grip for what feels like an eternity, though you know, with the cold certainty of a man who has checked his pulse a thousand times in the dark, that it has been only three hours since the last shift ended. You are lying on your side, the mattress beneath you soft and yielding in a way that...
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