The Golden Greenhouse
The smoke tastes of copper and burnt sugar. You cough. Your lungs burn. It is a bad feeling. Like swallowing hot iron. You are in the garden. No. Not a garden. A greenhouse. Glass. Thick glass. Stained with grime and age. The air is thick. Heavy. You cannot breathe right. You try. Your chest heaves. In. Out. In. Out. It does not help. You see the table. It is long. Oak. Dark. Polished until it...
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