The Golden Farce

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2026-08-20 05:15:27 -

The Golden Farce

I took the train north. The air was thin and cold. It tasted of rust. I held my ticket in my hand. It was a white square. A void. I looked at the window. The trees blurred. They were ghosts. My name is Arthur. I am a clerk. I file things. I sort them. I have no opinions. I have no edges. I am smooth. I am safe. I am nothing. The war had ended, or perhaps it had just moved. It was hard to tell....

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