The Wistful Skyline
The cursor blinks, a dry, rhythmic tapping that matches the erratic thud in Anders Dahl’s chest. He stares at the screen, the blue light cutting through the dimness of the break room, where the hum of the vending machine provides a low, constant drone beneath the sound of his own breathing. The model is nearly done, the Skyline projection for the quarterly review, but his fingers tremble over...
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