The Pale Mist
You cannot simply leave a mark on the air, can you, that is what Dr. Elias Thorne was saying, his voice thin and reedy in the sterile white silence of the university faculty lounge, where the fluorescent lights hummed a low, electric hymn that seemed to drill directly into the temples of anyone who had not slept in more than forty-eight hours. He stood before the blackboard, though there was no...
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