The Wistful Grid
Chapter One October 12, 2024. The form is on the desk, the ink still wet. I am Zoran Stancev, Sergeant, and I want to leave before the review. The streetlights outside my window flicker. Not randomly. They pulse. My heart skips a beat, and the light above the salt smugglers' cove blinks out, then back on, dimmer. It is a mirror. I have always known this. The Grid is not a machine; it is a body....
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