The Faded Road
Odd Berg’s hand shook as he tightened the bolt on the ferry gate, the vibration of the winch traveling up his forearm and into his teeth. He was fifty-two, and the tremor in his fingers was not merely fatigue but a structural failure of the nervous system, a warning that his own load-bearing capacity was nearing its limit. In six months, mandatory retirement would strip him of his title as...
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