The Pale Fracture
Act I Setsuko Murata had a hole in her left boot that let the monsoon water up to her ankle, and she knew that by Friday, the bridge toll would be collected from her studio’s lease. The Civic Hall commission was her only chance to keep the roof, yet the Bureau of Aesthetic Purity had flagged her central piece as structurally unstable. It was a faint fracture, a hairline break in the glass that...
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