The Distant Nightmare
"You missed a line." Tao Xu looked up from the ledger, the quill trembling in his hand. The ink had not dried. It was a dark vein, pulsing under the translucent skin of his wrist, spreading toward his elbow like a crack in ice. Outside, the October grey pressed against the tin roof of the hutong loft, a physical weight that muffled the sound of the dialysis machines humming in the room below....
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