The Distant Legend
The pill was brown. It was a small, dull thing. It sat on the table. It was worn. The edges were soft. It was not round anymore. It was an oval. A perfect, smooth oval. Elias saw it in the dream. It was in his hand. He held it tight. His palm was sweaty. The pill was cold. He knew its weight. He knew its history. It had saved him once. Or so he thought. He woke up. The room was dark. Rain...
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