The Slow Decay of Quiet Men Facing the Rusted Edge of Tomorrow
CHAPTER 1: THE WEIGHT OF THE NAPKIN The linoleum was the color of dried grease, cracked in long, branching veins where the foundation of the diner had settled into the dust. Mac leaned heavily against the laminate counter, his knuckles white against the formica. His lungs burned—a dry, rasping heat that tasted of old copper…