The Faded Attic
"Put the kettle on, Fernando. The light is failing and we have work to do before the rain stops." Fernando Lim did not look up from the ledger he was holding, his knuckles swollen and reddened by the early onset of arthritis that had begun to claim his hands a year prior. The attic of the ancestral house, a requisitioned boarding house on the edge of the Manila estero, was thick with the dust...
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