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Red Velvet And Gold

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Promise hangs heavy in the air, glistening like a cobweb across the auditorium. This is a memory palace, a magician’s trick. 7.10. Whispers of conversation drifting up from the stalls. The people in the circle marvel at the high, domed ceiling and the twinkling chandelier. Thick air, the smell of dry-ice. Something that isn’t quite stillness creeps across the stage.
    The orchestra begin their tune-up. 7.22. The French horn. A hint of a flute.

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