The Golden Greenhouse
The breakroom mirror at St. Jude’s Rehabilitation Center did not reflect light; it absorbed it. It was a slab of polished obsidian set into the drywall, framed in cheap brass, and for the first time in seven years, Eleanor felt the glass look back. She was not a woman. Or rather, she was no longer only a woman. The change had begun three days ago, a subtle pruritus behind the sternum that the...
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