The Pale Altar
The list of names was read aloud from the pneumatic tube, a dry rattle of paper hitting the metal floor of the intake station, twenty-three of the Ferry Slip. I looked at the slip. It was a standard grievance form, Form 44-B, "Alleged Contamination of Civic Aesthetics." The sender was the Department of Urban Cohesion. The subject was my commission. The Pale Altar. I remember the cold then. Not...
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