The Distant Ghost
The dream began with the sound of cracking ice. Thomas stood on the shore of a black lake. The water was still. It was not water. It was glass. He looked down. He saw his own reflection. It was not his face. It was a mask. It was white. It was smooth. It had no eyes. He woke. The room was cold. The air smelled of dust and old paper. Thomas sat up. His head ached. A dull, heavy pain behind his...
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