The Pale Circus
Ninth of October, 1942. Notice to the Understudy: The mill wheel is freed for the season. All hands must clear the workshop floor by noon. The lease on the district interiors is due at the end of the month, and my personal guarantee hangs over us like a wet sheet, heavy with the smell of rust and old blood. I stood before the High Inquisitor, a title that sat on his head like a cracked pot,...
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