The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom The salt spray stung Wren’s face, tasting like regret and old pennies. She tightened the hood of her oilskin jacket, scanning the gray churn of the Pacific. Not for ships. Never for ships. She watched for…
genetic engineering
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The Static Between Flights
## The Static Between Flights The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt cold under Kaiya’s elbows. October light slanted through greasy windows, painting stripes across the vinyl. Another SAT score sheet lay crumpled in her bag – another perfect…