The Golden Maze
The air in the atrium smelled of ozone and crushed leaves. You stand at the glass railing. Below, the garden is a grid of perfect, dead things. "Look at the symmetry," says Director Halloway. He is a small man with large, wet eyes that reflect the fluorescent lights above. "Do you see the order? We have eliminated the chaos. We have engineered the bloom." You do not look down. You look at the...
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