The Faded Sutra
March 12 The dream was always the same: a sheet of prescription paper, white and brittle, catching fire in the center while the edges remained cool. I woke with the taste of copper in my mouth, my hands stained with the phantom ink of a dosage that no longer existed. At forty-two, I am a senior actuary for Meridian Pharmaceuticals, a role that once felt like a fortress of logic and safety. My...
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