The Faded Portrait
The memo lay on the linoleum, its edges curling slightly in the dry air of the station, the ink smudged where your thumb had pressed it down while you read it twice. It was a standard administrative notice, the kind that smelled of toner and bureaucratic indifference, stating that the Miller file was to be archived permanently and that any further inquiry would be viewed as a dereliction of...
0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews