The Golden Maze
The gold thread bled into the cuticle of my thumb, a fine, metallic stain that would not wash off with soap, and I felt the vibration start in the molars before it reached the rest of the room. I am Mara, thirty-two, a senior archivist at the Ministry of Cultural Preservation, and I wanted nothing more than to secure my tenure by cataloging the newly discovered "Golden Maze" tapestries, a set...
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