The Golden Mirror
The memo lay on your desk, the paper thick and cream-colored, smelling faintly of the chemical preservatives used in the deep vaults. It was a standard Form 114, a request for the re-authentication of the 1911 Industrial Ledger. Your name was at the bottom, signed in your own cramped hand. You stared at the ink, black and dry, wondering if it would stay that way or fade into the white void of...
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