The Faded Road
Maggie, you’re behind on the accounts again. The Headmaster’s voice did not rise, but the air in the office seemed to contract, thickening with the smell of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of the ink I had spilled three days prior. I stood by the filing cabinet, my left hand trembling against the cold brass handle, the joints aching with a stiffness that had nothing to do with the...
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