The Golden Circuit
The morning light did not arrive so much as it leaked, a pale and sickly fluid seeping through the gaps in the heavy velvet drapes that had hung in the study of the old manor house for what felt like a century, staining the dust motes into tiny, suspended galaxies of amber and grey, a visual cacophony that I found myself unable to look away from, even as my hands trembled so violently upon the...
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