The Pale Shadows
The glass was already cracked when I found it. It lay on the floor of the archive room, a web of white fractures spreading from the center of the lens, like a dried lake bed or a spider’s trap caught in the dust. I did not pick it up immediately. I stood there, my hand hovering in the cold air, feeling the weight of the silence that had settled over the department. Outside, the rain lashed...
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