Chapter 8 · free to read
Everyone was ordinary. Everything was ordinary. Ordinary had simply stopped agreeing about the time.
The clerk laughed and told her not to worry — people who ask about that word have a way of getting transferred themselves. It was meant as a joke about paperwork.
One of them had grown old. The one beside her had not moved a single hair.
Every other face was smiling at the photographer. One was looking at whoever would eventually pick the picture up.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.