The Golden Myth
The memo is anachronistic and disruptive, Director Halloway said, his voice flat and dry as old dust. He did not look at you. He looked at the window, where the London fog was pressing against the glass like a wet, grey hand. You sat in the staff meeting room, your back straight, the leather chair creaking under the weight of your forty-two years. The other archivists, men and women who had...
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