The Golden Compass
The ink on the settlement agreement was still wet, glistening under the fluorescent hum of the law firm’s office, when my left hand began to tremor, a fine, involuntary vibration that traveled from the wrist to the fingertips, a biological revolt against the sheer, suffocating weight of the signature I had just affixed to the end of my marriage. I looked up, my eyes burning with the dry,...
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