The Golden Compass
The seizure hit Elias Thorne not with a thunderclap, but with a sudden, violent unraveling of the muscles in his right hand, which had been resting on the rim of a ceramic bowl. He was standing in the loading dock of the Oakhaven Steel Works, the air thick with the metallic tang of rust and the distant, rhythmic thud of the night shift, when his body betrayed him. The bowl slipped, shattering...
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