The Golden Maze
The coughing fit seized Margaret before the ambulance even arrived, a jagged, rattling thing that seemed to shake the very frame of her ribs. She was on her knees in the mud of the Appalachian trail, the cold seeping through her jeans, her fingers clawing at the wet earth as if trying to anchor herself to a reality that was rapidly dissolving into white noise. You’re doing it again, her sister,...
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