The Architecture of Absence
(Minimalist Realism Style) The apartment in Lower East Side was a white box, devoid of art, memories, or warmth. Arthur lived there for three hundred years. He didn't age. He didn't sleep. He simply existed. He had been a clerk in the Department of Records, a man who spent his days filing the deaths of others. In 1954, he had stumbled upon a biological anomaly—a sequence of proteins that, if...
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