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Summary
Eyes dart around the room, and the familiar green, flaking paint comes into view. The metallic creak of the hull— the mask at the end of the bed. Pictures above him. A cryptobiote habitat. Cans of chrial tea.
He wipes his eyes and stares stoically up at the ceiling. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. Sam and Lou left that morning. Three days. That was it.Three fucking days.
Or,
When life keeps going.Series
