The Golden Myth
The silk was the color of a bruise that had finally settled, a deep, arterial purple that seemed to drink the dim light of the study. Dr. Elias Thorne held it up, not with the reverent care of an appraiser, but with the weary, aching precision of a man holding his own reflection in a cracked mirror. The fabric was heavy, dense, woven with threads that caught the eye like trapped insects,...
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