“The Silver City by the Golden Sands” by Jennifer Swain
There was a young couple eating on the floor of a dead shipmaster. . .
There was a young couple eating on the floor of a dead shipmaster. . .
I braced myself on the backseat as my red taxi careened around the corner. . .
It was a typical August night in Tokyo when each breath felt like you were sucking cotton into your lungs. . .