The Wistful Incense
Reyna Talamantes pressed the nib of her steel pen against the wet paper, the ink pooling in the center of the map like a black eye. The Bureau of Civic Order demanded the new boundary lines by Friday, but the ink refused to stay put, bleeding outward into the margins, tracing veins that did not exist on any survey. It was 1912, and the city of San Isidro, built on the ash skirts of a...
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