PREVIEW
... ual that ran every morning at seven.
I knew this because at exactly seven the fog on the floor stopped drifting and started organizing itself. That was the only word that fit. One moment it wandered around the corridor ceiling like normal mist. The next it moved with purpose.
Three beats forward along the north corridor. Pause. Two beats back. Pause. Repeat.
Same pattern. Same timing. Every morning.
It had been doing this for four days now. I’d written it down the ...
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