The Golden Cellar
The notice was pinned to the corkboard with a rusted tack, its paper yellowed and brittle at the edges: "All surplus coal from the Northern Prefecture to be incinerated by 0400 hours. No exceptions." The ink was faded, but the weight of the order was not; it pressed against Feng Tang’s chest as he stood in the dim corridor of the State Cultural Preservation Bureau, his fingers tracing the rough...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews