The Golden Maze
The chair was hard. The wood had a grain like frozen water. I sat in it for three days. "You are late, Thomas," the Director said. He did not look up. He was counting coins. Gold coins. They clinked against each other. The sound was sharp. It cut the air. "I am here," I said. My voice was thin. It sounded like dry leaves. "Here is not enough," he said. "You must be present. You must be whole....
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