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Weekly Contest #227
In the basement of a building, a man sat on the edge of a polished marble tub. His head was stirring, and his shoulders hung heavy as if the ceiling was sitting on him, and he had to clench what he had inside of him to hold himself up. The contents within the marble crashed against its walls and left its spill on the other side. His back met the airy draft, starkly contrasting with the liquid's constant, soothing temperature. This slightly sobered his mind, and his pale and unblemished skin bore the signs of immersion—brainy fingertips...
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