The Golden Maze
You sit in the center of the labyrinth, the stones around you slick with the perpetual damp of this place, and you wonder if you have ever truly been awake, or if this is the only state of being that is real, where the walls breathe and the silence has a texture like velvet dragged over gravel. The path here is not a line drawn in the sand but a boundary, a threshold carved from the very fabric...
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