The Golden Downtown
Act I "Put the ink down, Zoran. You are bleeding."‌​⁠⁠‌‌‌​​‌⁠‍⁠⁠‍​⁠‍​​‌​‌‍⁠​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​‌⁠​⁠​​‌‍⁠‍‌‍‍‍‍​⁠​‍‌⁠​⁠​⁠‍‌‍‍​‍‌‍‍ I looked at my hand. The quill had slipped, or perhaps I had let it go, and a dark smear of soot and blood ran across the parchment, marring the line of the Golden Ledger. I was thirty-two, a court scribe in the ancient capital, desperate to secure my family’s debt-free...
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