The Golden Maze
The cough started in my throat. It was a wet sound. I heard it in the quiet room. The walls were white. The air was cold. I looked at my hand. It was not my hand. It was made of smoke. I tried to breathe. I could not. The smoke curled up. It turned into a shape. A shape of bone. I knew that bone. I had seen it before. In the factory. In the night shift. The machines roared. The gears turned. I...
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