The Golden Ritual
The rain on the windshield was a static hiss. It was a constant, low-frequency noise that masked the engine’s idle. I watched the wipers sweep. Left. Right. Left. Right. A mechanical heartbeat. Outside, the city of Seattle was a smear of grey and amber. The traffic lights bled into the fog. I was driving a black sedan. It was an unmarked unit. Inside, the air was cold. I kept the heater on low....
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