The Distant Machine
The vial was red. It sat on the steel table. Cold. Glass. Elias stared at it. His hands shook. He put them in his pockets. He pulled them out. He put them back. "Drink it," said Dr. Aris. His voice was soft. Like dust. Elias looked up. Aris stood by the window. The sky outside was gray. Flat. Dead. "Is it real?" Elias asked. Aris smiled. A thin crack. "Everything here is real, Elias. Even the...
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