The Wistful Saga
14 October 2019 The air in the basement archive always tastes of dust and old paper. I am forty-two years old. I have been here for six years. I want a permanent position. I need it. My lease is up in November. The rent in this city is a slow strangulation. The Director died on Tuesday. We are cataloging his estate. It is my job. I am the junior archivist. I am good at my job. I am careful. I...
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