The Pale Shadows
The dream is always the same. You are in the room. It is white. White walls. White floor. No windows. You hold the object. It is cold. It is smooth. It is heavy. It is your hand. You do not know where the metal ends and the skin begins. You wake up. The light is gray. The alarm is loud. You are in your bunk. The barracks are silent. Except for the breathing. You sit up. Your hands are empty....
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