The Pale Shadows
The wool is thin. You know this. You know it because you have worn it until the fiber surrendered its integrity. You are in the cell. It is stone. It is cold. The door is iron. You are a man of law. You are a man of order. And you are trapped. You look at your hands. They are bound. The rope is rough. It bites into the skin. You do not move. You wait. This is the first truth. The second truth...
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