A glimpse of brass

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[…] For a moment, you are lying flat, confined on all sides. It is cold and musty and dark. […] you realise you are looking at your own face, reflected in the brass of the lid above you, barely visible in the glimmering light of the distant […] sun.

[Find the rest of the story at https://www.fallenlondon.com]

Unlocked with Bandagedman.png Having Recurring Dreams: The Burial of the Dead 5

Card drawn in Parabola.png The Mirror-Marches

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