The Golden Circuit
You wake with the taste of copper in your mouth. It is a thin, metallic film, sticky on the tongue. You do not remember falling. You only remember standing in the garden, the soil dark and wet under your boots. You are tired. The fatigue is not in your muscles but in your bones. It is a deep, structural weariness. Margaret is awake. She is sitting in the chair by the window, her back to you....
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