The Golden Visit
The rain against the window of the university library was not a sound, but a vibration, a low-frequency hum that I felt in my teeth before I heard it with my ears. It was late November, the kind of gray, flat light that drains the color from the world and leaves only the architecture of decay. I was leaving my post as Head of Archival Preservation, a tenure I had held for twenty years, a career...
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