The Luminous Prison
The damp had reached Edgar's bones by the third year of his confinement, though he often told himself it was not damp at all but something far more insidious. It was a slow, patient seepage that had infiltrated the very architecture of his flesh, taking up residence in the marrow and the muscle. It moved beneath his skin like a second, clandestine pulse, a current that carried the sharp taste...
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