The Distant Blade
"Keep it down, June. The walls are thin and the light is bad." I wiped the floor with a rag that smelled of stale beer and industrial disinfectant. It was the only job that hired me after the school closed, the only place where my hands could move without asking permission. The strip club on the corner of 109th and Lenox was closing early, the dry thunder of no rain rattling the windows. I was...
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