The Faded Frequency
October 12, 2023 The air in the archive smells of dust and old paper, a scent that has seeped into my pores over the last decade. I am forty-two years old, and I want the position of permanent curator before the board votes on Friday. Director Halloway has blocked my promotion for years, citing my lack of vision, a phrase he uses with the precision of a scalpel. I adjust my tie, the fabric...
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