The Pale Altar
The ink on the policy form bled, spreading into a black star that swallowed the signature line. Elias Thorne pressed a blotter against the wet paper, his breath held in a tight, cold knot in his chest. He was forty-five, an actuary of twenty years at Meridian Insurance Group, and he was losing the war against the paperwork. The office hummed, a low, static frequency that vibrated in his molars...
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