The Distant Nightmare
The scanner hummed a low, electric note that vibrated through the metal table and up into Elena’s wrists, a constant reminder of the three hundred and twelve pages remaining in the municipal ledger for 2019. She counted them not by flipping, but by the weight of the stack in her palm, a dense, gritty block of paper that felt heavier than it had an hour ago. It was 3:00 AM in the basement of the...
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