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  • Inhale stale air, exhale dark clouds of toxic gas.

    The small tapestry, spun from glistening strands of cheap polyester, is disintegrating. It crumbles away at the slightest touch. The flat, dissonant chord is fading from the air; no longer audible by earthly ears. The crude words printed on the tattered page are smudging, lost forever. Illegible.

    Something is thrashing in my chest, pounding against its temporal prison. Something is pulsating in my skull, parasitic and hellish, neon and electric and garish. It's got me in a strangle hold, clenching tighter around my soul, leeching the me out of myself. The spiritual entity in my chest is frantic now, slamming against my ribs, knotting in my throat, roiling in my stomach, desperate for escape. Desperate for freedom.

    It senses that its vessel is in its final throes. It's streaking down in a blaze of flame. It's fading quietly into the atmosphere. It's leaving behind no traces.
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