The Wistful Petal
Act I Cormac Kavanagh had been dead for thirty-four years, yet he still paid the management fees on his retirement fund, a bureaucratic ghost clinging to the ledger of a life that had ended in a shipyard slip in 1990. The office of the Aetherial Bureaucracy smelled of ozone and damp wool, a scent that clung to the linoleum floor where the queue snaked past the filing cabinets, each drawer...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews