The Pale Altar
The weight of a ledger is a specific kind of silence. It is the silence of numbers that do not lie, even when the hands holding them are trembling. I was thirty-two years old, a junior clerk in the ledger room of the Saito Textile Mill, and I wanted the permanent position of Head Accountant by Friday. What stood against him was not the work, which I knew by heart, but the sudden, unexplained...
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