The Pale Exile
The clock in the lobby didn’t tick. It sat there, a brass eye with no pupils, watching the dust settle on the carpet. I stopped looking at it after the first day. Now I just felt its weight, a pressure behind my eyes. You think you can outrun a debt. You think if you move the house, the house follows. If you move the city, the city follows. I moved from Boston to Chicago. Then to Denver. Now I...
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