The Dead Time Girls

I was not alone in the street. Though the roads where unchanged since I set foot upon London’s cobbled stones, my own footsteps echoing upon them beneath the yellowed lamplight. In the dim twilight, three young women, ladies by their dress but not manner of construction, came towards me. Their eyes were dark, and their skin pierced in several places where electrodes had once been administered. Their skin, as they approached, was pale-to-grey in coloration. One of the faces amongst this mass had a recollection about her, perhaps I had seen it somewhere before. But it was hard to tell amongst the jumbled of parts stitched together to form her flesh. I showed them my coin. They turned and chattered amongst themselves for a moment, before pushing one of their number forward.

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The Dead Time Girls

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