The Parasite's Gratitude
The silence of the basement apartment in East London was not a peace; it was a vacuum. Mark lived there by choice, a man who found the presence of other people to be a form of psychic noise. He was an archivist, a curator of dead papers and forgotten dates, a man who preferred the company of ink to the company of flesh. His life was a carefully constructed loop of solitude, designed to keep the...
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