The Pale Meridian
"Look at it." "Look." You are standing in the atrium of the university. The glass is cold. Your fingers are white. The orchid is there. It is green. It is wet. It is dying. "Did you do this?" "I didn't touch it." Your mentor, Dr. Elias Thorne, stands across the stone floor. He is older. His coat is brown. He smells of tobacco and rain. He does not look at you. He looks at the plant. He looks at...
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