The Faded Guest
The marrow of your left index finger has been calcifying for three days, a slow, silent invasion that you have mistaken for a mere ache in the joint, a triviality of the flesh that one expects after handling cold iron and stale parchment. You are Margaret Holloway, a clerk of the second grade in the Department of Anomalous Correspondence, a title that sounds more imposing than the reality of...
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