The Pale Tale
The mirror in the actuarial office did not reflect the room; it reflected the error. I saw it first in the corner of my eye, a smudge of pale grey where the glass should have been clear, and by the time I looked directly, the figure was standing there, hands folded, wearing a suit that seemed woven from the static of an old television. He did not speak. He simply pointed at the ledger on my...
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