Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

smelled of lavender floor wax and old paper. David, the records clerk, pulled a heavy tray of microfiche jackets from the metal cabinet behind his desk. He set the tray down with a dull metallic thud that echoed in the quiet basement.

“The local disclosures from the autumn cycle are all on film now,” David said, pointing to the blue light of the reader.continue reading …