The Golden Compass
The radio crackled, a dry, static-heavy buzz that felt like sandpaper against the inside of my skull. I checked the time on the dashboard, the digital numbers glowing a harsh, indifferent red. Sixteen hours left on the shift. Twenty years of service, and the math was finally coming due. My left hand, the one that usually gripped the steering wheel with the certainty of a man who had held a...
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