The Tesseract [antikvár]

a c k 1. There was no bright color in the room. Outside, there was plenty. Through the bars of the window, Sean could see sunlight on drifting litter and flashes of foliage in the narrow gaps between squatter shacks. But inside, nothing. Beige and khaki, faded by age, muted by the hopelessly dim lamps that sat on each side of his bed. "Stains," said Sean under his breath. It was something that the hotel room had in common with the street two stories below. In both places, there wasn't a single surface without