The Golden Downtown
"Look at the light, Thomas. It’s not yellow. It’s white. Pure, burning white. You’re the only one who sees it, and that’s why they’re afraid of you." I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The air in the cell was thick, tasting of iron and stale sweat, the kind of heaviness that settles in the lungs after a long run in the dark. I sat on the stone floor, my hands bound in leather straps that had bit into...
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