The Golden Circuit
The dream was of gold, a circuit of light so bright it burned the eyes, and in that blinding radiance you held the chandelier’s central ring, the gold leaf peeling away in flakes like dead skin, and you woke in the cold of the attic room with the taste of copper in your mouth and the date, the fourteenth of November, one thousand nine hundred and twelve, scrawled in the margin of your ledger....
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