The Golden Scar
The first thing I noticed was the light, a thin, jagged line of gold burning across the inner curve of my left forearm, a mark that had not existed the night before but now pulsed with a heat that felt less like inflammation and more like a signal being received. I was twelve years old, waking in the narrow cot of my family’s unit in Sector Four, the air still thick with the recycled ozone...
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