The Faded Root
You wake with the taste of iron filings on your tongue, a metallic tang that clings to the back of your throat like a secret you have sworn never to tell. The dream is already fading, dissolving into the gray, fluorescent hum of the breakroom at Kestrel & Sons Accounting, a firm that deals in the quiet, sterile arithmetic of other people’s failures. You are Arthur Penhaligon, or at least that...
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