Different Lives: A Collection of TG Fiction
Table of Contents
It was so damn dark. Day and night. All the time. Actually you never really knew if it was day or night. And cold. Even though the heater kept the temperature at an even seventy-two degrees, the floor, the walls, everything was concrete, and always cold to the touch. Maybe it was just that the place was poorly lit and furnished with mostly grey or metal shelves and cabinets. Maybe it wasn’t even that it was poorly lit and cold, but it was that they had been inside these three rooms for two fucking weeks.