The Wistful Incense
"You are in the wrong position, Thomas," the Director said, his voice a dry scrape of paper against wood, devoid of heat or genuine anger, merely stating a fact as one might note the temperature of a room. "The architecture is compromised. You are holding it up." I stood in the center of the Grand Hall, my hands gripping the cold, polished surface of the mahogany railing. The air here was...
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