The Pale Shadows
The fluorescent lights in the basement archives of the Whitmore Institute did not so much illuminate the room as they suspended it in a sterile, humming limbo, a pale, electric fog that clung to the spines of the books and the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air, creating a visual static that made Eleanor Fairchild’s vision blur at the edges where the shadow of the shelving units seemed to...
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