The Golden Compass
The question was always the same: how much of the ice do you have to break before you realize you are the one freezing? I was thirty-two years old, a senior auditor for the Ministry of Internal Stability, and I was standing in the comms relay shed on the Isle of Skye, watching the north light hang low and white over the fjord. It was a light that never quite set, a physical fact that made the...
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