The Wistful Skyline
The silence in the room was not empty; it was heavy, a physical weight that pressed against my eardrums and settled in the hollows of my ribs. I sat in the corner of the sterile white chamber, the fluorescent lights humming a low, electric hymn that seemed to vibrate the very air around me. My hands, bound by cuffs that felt less like metal and more like the cold embrace of a judgment I had...
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