The Faded Apartment
The scan gun beeped, a harsh, flat note that cut through the low, persistent hum vibrating in Ray Ledbetter’s teeth. He lifted the box of dried figs from the conveyor belt, the weight of it solid and real against his palms, a grounding anchor in the shifting air of the warehouse. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered, a stuttering rhythm that matched the throb behind his eyes, and for a...
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