The Golden Quest
Your fingers are stained with ink, a dark crescent under the nail of your right thumb. You are blotting a smear from the ledger, a small, mechanical act that feels suddenly absurd in the silence of the archive. The air is cold, a dry chill that seeps through the wool of your sleeves and settles in the joints. You look up. Director Halloway is standing by the door, his hands clasped behind his...
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