The Golden Song
Chapter One "You’re late, Bronwen," Gwilym said, not looking up from the ledger. "The siren schedule is posted. The machine comes in three days. If you don’t have the coin, you’re out." I stood in the queue at the venereal clinic, the air cold and loud, smelling of wet wool and rust. I was twenty-four, a trade union checker, and I was broke. The strike fund was nearly spent, and the snow was...
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