The Pale Mist
The invoice for the custom-hewn oak desk, delivered by courier on a Tuesday, listed the total in bold, unblinking figures: forty-two thousand forints, plus tax, plus the fine print regarding the "unrecoverable deposit" if the shipment was refused. It sat on the counter of the customs shed, where the air smelled of damp wool and the stale, metallic tang of the police scanner I had kept in my...
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