You enter through a cold glass door, inhaling manufactured flora laced with root gum and plastic that reaches the back of your throat; a room that smells of the faded lavender of angelica, the waxy rose of Geranium, extract of vanilla unnecessarily braced with resin.
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StillPoint: Colette's Mirror Play
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You enter through a cold glass door, inhaling manufactured flora laced with root gum and plastic that reaches the back of your throat; a room that smells of the faded lavender of angelica, the waxy rose of Geranium, extract of vanilla unnecessarily braced with resin.