The Wistful Show
You are the prisoner. You have always been the prisoner. The cell is not made of stone, but of glass and steel and the hum of servers in the sub-basement. It is a clean room. It is a white room. It is the kind of room that swallows sound and leaves you staring at your own reflection in the monitor, distorted by the curvature of the screen. You are waiting for the verdict. You are waiting for...
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