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4th Column

Vocational Origination Training and Renewal

The radiator ticked its familiar uneven rhythm, tapping softly at the pipes like somebody rehearsing a timid knock. Mira’s apartment smelled faintly of yeast, coffee, and old paper; every flat surface had a script or a notebook on it, the pages splayed open like mouths mid-syllable. Four of

Bureau of Authentic Expression

The letters on the notice were so evenly spaced they seemed to hum: BUREAU OF AUTHENTIC EXPRESSION. The seal showed a mask split down the middle—one cheek flesh, one chrome—with an olive branch braided along the seam. Beneath it, the mission statement crawled across Mira’s apartment wall

Harmony’s Triumph

The theatre smelled of polished brass and simulated candle wax, the kind designed to whisper “tradition” without ever producing soot. Tonight was another grand premiere produced by The Theatre Simulacra. The audience filed in, eyes bright with the eagerness to lay claim to have witnessed the latest and greatest production.