The Pale Bridge
The glass was cold. It bit into my palm. I held it tight. The factory floor shook. A low hum. It lived in the walls. It lived in my teeth. I am a guard. That is all I am. I stand. I watch. The clock ticks. One second. Two seconds. The glass in my hand is cracked. A hairline fracture. It spreads. Like a vein. Like a scar. My name is Arthur. I wear the gray coat. It is heavy. It is wet. The rain...
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