The Faded River
You stand at the edge of the glass. The hall is vast. The light is cold. It bites into your skin. You feel it. It is a wound. You are a soldier. You are a father. These things are one. They are fused. You cannot pull them apart. You try. You fail. The seal holds. The court is empty. Or so it seems. The chairs are black. They look like holes in the ground. You sit in the center. You are small....
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