The Pale Dance
The name on the badge was Milena Georgiev, and the fact that I had worked three hundred and twelve shifts without a single error was a hard, cold thing to hold in my hands. The badge weighed four ounces. I knew the weight because I had carried it in my pocket for twelve years, every day, through the snow and the heat. I was thirty-two. My wife, Elara, was in the hospital wing of the border...
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