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Weekly Contest #317
Jane woke every morning with icy-hot rage coursing through her. Like a newborn emerging from the womb, she felt the blood surge into her veins, the oxygen bite her skin, and her consciousness return—filling her mind with static, black and white blotting out her vision. For these few moments when she came back into herself, she could only wait for what came next: the sweating, the sting of tears, the rippling of pain that singed every nerve ending, as fragments of her that had traveled across time and space stitched themselves back together i...
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