The Wistful Cipher
He dreamed of the bone. It was white. It was long. It was his. Thomas woke with a gasp. The room was cold. Steam rose from the radiator. It hissed. It clicked. It was an old building. Industrial brick. Black soot stained the mortar. The clock on the mantel read four a.m. Thomas sat up. His body ached. Not just the back. Not just the knees. It was deeper. It was in the marrow. He looked at his...
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