The Golden Circuit
October 12. The vial sits on my desk, glowing a faint, sickly amber in the gray light of the afternoon. It is the only thing in this room that has not turned to dust, and I am tired of being the man who holds the light. I need the pension. I need the money to settle Clara’s debts, to pay for the funeral that the Bureau refused to sanction because her "cure" was deemed a violation of the Purity...
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