The Wistful Show
You look tired, Elias. I am not tired. I am clean. That is not an answer. You have the look of a man who has been running for a long time and finally stopped to catch his breath. But you are still running. I can see it in your hands. They shake. My hands do not shake. They do. I looked at him. He sat across from me in the small, windowless room. The air was thick. It smelled of stale coffee and...
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