The Wistful Voyage
You stand in the corridor. The air is thick. It smells of coal dust and wet wool. You are a man of the law. You wear the uniform. It fits tight at the shoulders. You feel the weight of it. It is not cloth. It is stone. You wait. The door is closed. It is heavy. It is iron. You hear breathing on the other side. It is not yours. It is small. It is quick. It sounds like a bird in a cage. You do...
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