The Golden Circuit
October 12, 1954. The soldering iron is at three hundred and forty degrees. I have counted the seconds it takes for the tip to cool to a dull red; it is twelve. My hands are steady for the first eight seconds. By the ninth, the tremor starts. It is not a shake, not exactly. It is a vibration, a low-frequency hum that travels up from the wrist and settles in the shoulder. I hide my left hand...
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