Welcome to another photo prompt from the Friday Fictionneers blog hop.
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Gordon ran, ran and jumped up each step, mirrored by a million windows of blinding bulbs. They were definitely after him. He couldn't hide among the myriad perpetual staircases leading up to no rooms or hallways. He couldn't warp into another time frame and he couldn't cease to breath: he was immortal.
His thoughts thrashed and boiled, his eyes darted, his body writhed. A trickle of cold sweat finally woke him up to the golden rays playfully dancing on the dresser.
"Honey, what a nightmare, I was in Blade Runner, but nowhere near as handsome as Harrison Ford. I think maybe that was the worst part."
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