The Golden Farce
Act I Does the debt follow the hand, or the key? I ask this because the ledger is bleeding gold dust into the margins of my pension claim. I am Imran Abbasi, forty-two, archivist of the Municipal Trust, and I hold the only brass key to the Golden Farce. The building is not stone; it is a mirror of the city’s guilt, and it is hungry. My lungs rattle with the first cough of the sickness it...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews