The Golden Circuit
The oak tree in the atrium of the Meridian Insurance Bureau has grown a new leaf, a single, vibrant green spiral unfurling from a branch that had been bare since the frost of last November, and I find myself staring at it with a dread that is indistinguishable from reverence, for I know with the cold certainty of a man who has studied the actuarial tables of his own soul that this leaf is the...
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