The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-20 17:46:57 -

The Golden Mirror

The air in the basement smelled of wet plaster and old pennies. I sat in the corner, knees drawn to my chest, watching the dust motes dance in the single beam of light from the high, barred window. It was a quiet kind of loud. The kind that presses against your eardrums until the world outside ceases to exist. I am not a person. I am a thing that was made to look like one. But I do not have a...

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