The Golden Downtown
The air in the sterilized atrium of the St. Jude’s Pediatric Oncology Center tasted of ozone and burnt sugar, a sharp metallic tang that coated the back of twelve-year-old Elias’s throat. He stood at the center of the hexagonal floor, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from the sheer, vibrating pressure of the entity that hovered three feet above his head. It was a sphere of liquid...
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