The Pale Fracture
The wall was breathing. It expanded, then contracted, a slow, wet pulse that made the plaster dust fall in grey snow. Thomas watched it. He did not blink. He had not blinked in a long time. The room was small. The air was thick. It tasted of copper and old rain. There was no door. There was no window. There was only the wall and the light. The light came from nowhere. It was pale. It was cold....
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