The Pale Altar
The nutrient paste arrived in the usual silver tubs, but today the consistency was wrong. It was a pale, watery gray, lacking the dense, beige opacity that had sustained the city’s workforce for the past decade. I stood in the breakroom of the Sanitation Department, holding the tub, watching the liquid slosh against the plastic walls with a sluggish, viscous sound. My hands were trembling. I...
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