The Golden Farce
"Eighty-four of Candlewick Row, you say? That is not a place, it is a debt." Chapter One Concepcion Herrera woke with the taste of copper in his mouth, the radiator in the walk-up apartment knocking a dry, wooden rhythm against the cold wall. The eviction notice lay on the kitchen table, its red ink bleeding into the paper like a bruise, next to the bus schedule for the out-of-state job that...
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