The Golden Greenhouse
The glass cracks. It starts at the top. A thin white line. You see it. You have always seen it. The light bends through the fracture. It splits the air in the room. The room is white. The walls are white. The floor is white. You are here. You are still. You are the guard. You are the keeper. The institution is a palace of silence. It is high up. It is cold. The wind howls against the glass. The...
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