The Distant Temple
Your left hand is missing. You do not know when it went. The stump is clean. It does not bleed. It feels like cold marble. You sit in the corner of the room. The walls are damp. The air smells of rot and old paper. You are alone. Wait. You are not alone. A figure sits across the room. He wears a coat that is too large for him. It hangs off his shoulders like wet moss. He is reading a book. The...
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