The Golden Farce
The hall was bright. Too bright. Crystal hung from the ceiling like frozen tears. It caught the light. It shattered the light. It blinded us. I stood at the edge of the room. My coat was damp. The rain had not stopped. It tapped on the glass. A steady rhythm. A drumbeat for a funeral I had not yet attended. Professor Alden stood at the podium. His voice was clear. It cut through the hum of the...
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