The Golden Compass
"REPO NOTICE: VEHICLE 44-B. STATUS: SEIZED. TIME: 09:00." The paper slid across the counter of the union hall, its edges crisp against the damp wood. I picked it up, the ink still wet, smelling of the toner that had bled through the cheap bond paper. Outside, the ice storm had felled the elms along the polder, their trunks snapped like dry twigs, blocking the road to the mine. The foreman, Mr....
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