The Faded Quadrant
The air was thick. It tasted of copper and stale wine. We were crowded. The room was small. Too small for the heat. Too small for the bodies. I watched the men. I watched their hands. They moved with purpose. They moved with hunger. I was the eye. I was the witness. I was the fool who thought observation was safety. The table was long. It held us all. The plates were white. The food was cold....
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