The Distant Affair
The jar shatters on the linoleum floor of the sterile, white-walled intake center, and the sound is not a crash but a wet, heavy thud, like a melon hitting pavement in the rain. You stare at the puddle of viscous, amber liquid spreading across the tiles, smelling of burnt sugar and ozone. This is the substance. This is the proof. The air here is recycled, filtered through HEPA systems that...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 3 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση