The Wistful Incense
You wake with the taste of copper on your tongue. It is thick. It is sweet. You are in the white room. The walls are painted a shade that does not exist outside of this place. It is a blue that hurts. The light comes from a source you cannot see. It is everywhere. It is nothing. You are not alone. There is a man in the corner. He is wearing a suit that is too tight. The fabric is gray. It is...
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