Sub Migratio

“I’m cold.”

“Quiet.”

“How long?”

“Another five minutes, so get some rest while you can, Josh.”

The only other sound in the pitch-blackness came as he folded his arms and nestled his numb fingers into his armpits. He could feel his bones, his entire skeleton, infused with the cold of the concrete, as he lay flattened, taut with anticipation, and eyes staring up at nothingness.

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