Your Friends Are All Dead
Short Fiction
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Rockefeller Center shimmered with Christmas lights, the tree glinting with a million cold stars. The crowd—tourists mostly—stood rapt, their breaths clouding the air, cameras raised to capture an illusion of joy. Carols wafted from hidden speakers, and the skating rink below was a frozen stage of laughter and oblivion. Nearby, chestnuts crackled in a ve…
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