The Distant Joke
"You’re doing it wrong." The voice cut through the heavy air of the basement, sharp and bright against the low hum of the ventilation fans. You looked up from the stack of ledgers. Sarah stood in the doorway, a paper cup of coffee in each hand, her face tight with concern. She was a junior clerk, new to the Institute, with ink stains on her cuffs that looked like permanent bruises. You ignored...
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