The Void Gallery
(V-09: Minimalist Realism) The gallery was a white cube in the heart of Tokyo, a place where silence was the most expensive commodity. I was the curator, and I possessed the ability to restore any object to its absolute prime. I could take a rusted nail and make it a pristine spike; I could take a decayed letter and make the ink wet again. For years, I was the ghost of the art world. I worked...
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