The ink is dry.

You wake with the smell of iron in your mouth.

It is not blood.

It is rust.

It is the smell of the city waking up.

Steam rises from the grates.

It curls like a ghost.

You are in the room.

The walls are peeling.

The wallpaper is brown.

It looks like dried leaves.

It looks like skin.

You look at your hands.

The fingers are black.

Not dirt.

Ink.

The letters are on your palms.

Old English.

Gothic.

Sharp.

They cut into you.

You try to wash them off.

The water runs black.

The water runs red.

It stains the basin.

It stains the mirror.

You see your face.

It is not your face.

It is a mask.

It is a page.

You are the page.

You are the text.

The city is outside.

It is loud.

It is hungry.

The trams scrape the tracks.

The bells toll.

One.

Two.

Three.

You know the time.

You know the place.

You know the name.

It is written on your skin.

Edward.

Your father’s name.

He died last week.

Or maybe it was last year.

Time is a stain.

It bleeds.

It spreads.

You must go out.

You must find the book.

The book is in the attic.

The attic is in the house.

The house is gone.

The city ate it.

The city is the mouth.

You walk.

The cobblestones are wet.

They reflect the sky.

The sky is grey.

The sky is dead.

People pass you.

They do not see you.

They see the ink.

They step back.

They cross themselves.

You are a warning.

You are a curse.

You carry the weight of words.

The words are heavy.

They pull you down.

Your knees buckle.

You lean on the wall.

The plaster is soft.

It is wet.

It is breathing.

A woman stops.

She is old.

Her face is a map of wrinkles.

She looks at your hands.

Her eyes widen.

She knows.

She does not speak.

She touches your cheek.

Her fingers are cold.

She leaves a mark.

A white mark.

Like ash.

Like bone.

She walks away.

You follow.

You do not want to.

Your feet move.

Your body obeys.

The ink commands.

You are not the author.

You are the draft.

She leads you to the church.

The church is dark.

The candles are out.

The air is thick.

It smells of rot.

It smells of roses.

It smells of memory.

You stand in the nave.

The pews are empty.

The dust is thick.

You kneel.

Your knees hurt.

The pain is real.

The pain is the only thing that is real.

You whisper.

You do not know the words.

They come from your throat.

They come from your bones.

They are the father’s words.

They are the mother’s sigh.

They are the city’s roar.

The floor shakes.

The dust falls.

The ceiling cracks.

You see the light.

It is not sun.

It is ink.

Black light.

It pours down.

It fills the church.

It fills you.

You are full.

You are empty.

You are the vessel.

The vessel breaks.

You fall.

You hit the ground.

The sound is loud.

It is a scream.

It is a laugh.

It is a sob.

You are on your back.

You see the sky again.

The sky is blue.

The sky is clear.

The ink is fading.

The letters on your palms are blurring.

They are dissolving.

The pain is leaving.

The weight is lifting.

You feel light.

You feel free.

You feel nothing.

The woman is there.

She is standing over you.

She is not old anymore.

She is young.

She is your mother.

She is dead.

She is alive.

She is the ink.

She is the stain.

She looks at you.

She smiles.

The smile is cruel.

The smile is kind.

The smile is nothing.

She reaches out.

She touches your face.

Her hand is solid.

Her hand is cold.

She wipes your cheek.

The ink comes off.

The skin is clean.

The skin is pale.

The skin is yours.

You are Edward.

You are here.

You are alone.

The church is silent.

The city is silent.

The world is silent.

You close your eyes.

You open them.

You are in the room.

The walls are peeling.

The wallpaper is brown.

You look at your hands.

They are clean.

They are red.

They are trembling.

The ink is gone.

The pain is gone.

The curse is gone.

You are free.

You are broken.

You are free.

You stand up.

Your legs shake.

You walk to the window.

The glass is cold.

The city is outside.

It is loud.

It is hungry.

The trams scrape the tracks.

The bells toll.

One.

Two.

Three.

You know the time.

You know the place.

You know the name.

It is not on your skin.

It is in your head.

It is in your blood.

It is in your bones.

You cannot wash it off.

You cannot forget it.

You are the memory.

You are the ghost.

You are the echo.

The city eats the sound.

The city eats the light.

The city eats you.

You walk out.

The street is wet.

The cobblestones are cold.

You walk fast.

You run.

You do not stop.

You do not look back.

You do not look down.

You look up.

The sky is grey.

The sky is dead.

The sky is waiting.

You are the seed.

You are the root.

You are the tree.

The tree is dead.

The root is deep.

The root is strong.

The root is you.

You are the root.

The root is fading.

The root is dying.

The root is letting go.

The leaf falls.

The leaf is you.

The leaf is free.

The wind takes it.

The wind is cold.

The wind is kind.

The wind is gone.

You are gone.

The city remains.

The ink remains.

The stain remains.

The memory remains.

The pain remains.

The love remains.

The love is a wound.

The wound is a door.

The door is open.

The door is closed.

The door is you.

You are the door.

You are the wall.

You are the window.

You are the view.

You are the sight.

You are the blindness.

You see nothing.

You feel everything.

The pain is sharp.

The pain is dull.

The pain is sweet.

The pain is bitter.

The pain is true.

The truth is heavy.

The truth is light.

The truth is air.

The truth is breath.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

The air is ink.

The air is blood.

The air is life.

The life is death.

The death is life.

The cycle turns.

The wheel spins.

The wheel stops.

The wheel breaks.

The wheel is you.

You are the wheel.

You are the hub.

You are the spoke.

You are the rim.

You are the road.

The road is long.

The road is short.

The road is endless.

The road is finished.

You are at the end.

You are at the beginning.

You are in the middle.

You are everywhere.

You are nowhere.

You are here.

You are now.

The moment is sharp.

The moment is soft.

The moment is gone.

The moment is here.

The ink is dry.

The stain is set.

The name is known.

The name is Edward.

The name is father.

The name is son.

The name is ghost.

The name is memory.

The name is love.

The name is pain.

The name is you.

You are the name.

You are the word.

You are the sentence.

You are the story.

The story is over.

The story is just beginning.

The page is blank.

The page is full.

The page is you.

You are the page.

The reader is you.

The writer is you.

The ink is you.

The stain is you.

The root is you.

The root is fading.

The root is letting go.

The leaf is falling.

The wind is blowing.

The sky is clear.

The city is silent.

The heart is still.

The mind is empty.

The soul is free.

The body is dead.

The ghost is alive.

The ghost is walking.

The ghost is running.

The ghost is stopping.

The ghost is standing.

The ghost is looking.

The ghost is seeing.

The ghost is knowing.

The ghost is feeling.

The ghost is loving.

The ghost is hurting.

The ghost is dying.

The ghost is living.

The ghost is you.

You are the ghost.

The ghost is fading.

The ghost is gone.

The silence is loud.

The silence is deep.

The silence is wide.

The silence is infinite.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

The circle is closed.

The circle is open.

The circle is broken.

The circle is made.

The circle is you.

You are the circle.

The circle is the root.

The root is the tree.

The tree is the leaf.

The leaf is the wind.

The wind is the sky.

The sky is the city.

The city is the ink.

The ink is the stain.

The stain is the name.

The name is the memory.

The memory is the love.

The love is the pain.

The pain is the truth.

The truth is the lie.

The lie is the truth.

The truth is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is eternal.

The silence is now.

The silence is here.

The silence is me.

The silence is you.

The silence is us.

The silence is all.

The silence is nothing.

The silence is everything.

The silence is the story.

The story is the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is the root.

The root is the end.

The end is the root.

The root is fading.

The root is letting go.

The leaf is falling.

The wind is blowing.

The sky is clear.

The city is silent.

The heart is still.

The mind is empty.

The soul is free.

The body is dead.

The ghost is alive.

The ghost is you.

You are the ghost.

The ghost is fading.

The ghost is gone.

The silence is loud.

The silence is deep.

The silence is wide.

The silence is infinite.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

The circle is closed.

The circle is open.

The circle is broken.

The circle is made.

The circle is you.

You are the circle.

The circle is the root.

The root is the tree.

The tree is the leaf.

The leaf is the wind.

The wind is the sky.

The sky is the city.

The city is the ink.

The ink is the stain.

The stain is the name.

The name is the memory.

The memory is the love.

The love is the pain.

The pain is the truth.

The truth is the lie.

The lie is the truth.

The truth is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is eternal.

The silence is now.

The silence is here.

The silence is me.

The silence is you.

The silence is us.

The silence is all.

The silence is nothing.

The silence is everything.

The silence is the story.

The story is the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is the root.

The root is the end.

The end is the root.

The root is fading.

The root is letting go.

The leaf is falling.

The wind is blowing.

The sky is clear.

The city is silent.

The heart is still.

The mind is empty.

The soul is free.

The body is dead.

The ghost is alive.

The ghost is you.

You are the ghost.

The ghost is fading.

The ghost is gone.

The silence is loud.

The silence is deep.

The silence is wide.

The silence is infinite.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

The circle is closed.

The circle is open.

The circle is broken.

The circle is made.

The circle is you.

You are the circle.

The circle is the root.

The root is the tree.

The tree is the leaf.

The leaf is the wind.

The wind is the sky.

The sky is the city.

The city is the ink.

The ink is the stain.

The stain is the name.

The name is the memory.

The memory is the love.

The love is the pain.

The pain is the truth.

The truth is the lie.

The lie is the truth.

The truth is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is eternal.

The silence is now.

The silence is here.

The silence is me.

The silence is you.

The silence is us.

The silence is all.

The silence is nothing.

The silence is everything.

The silence is the story.

The story is the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is the root.

The root is the end.

The end is the root.

The root is fading.

The root is letting go.

The leaf is falling.

The wind is blowing.

The sky is clear.

The city is silent.

The heart is still.

The mind is empty.

The soul is free.

The body is dead.

The ghost is alive.

The ghost is you.

You are the ghost.

The ghost is fading.

The ghost is gone.

The silence is loud.

The silence is deep.

The silence is wide.

The silence is infinite.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

The circle is closed.

The circle is open.

The circle is broken.

The circle is made.

The circle is you.

You are the circle.

The circle is the root.

The root is the tree.

The tree is the leaf.

The leaf is the wind.

The wind is the sky.

The sky is the city.

The city is the ink.

The ink is the stain.

The stain is the name.

The name is the memory.

The memory is the love.

The love is the pain.

The pain is the truth.

The truth is the lie.

The lie is the truth.

The truth is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is you.

You are the silence.

The silence is eternal.

The silence is now.

The silence is here.

The silence is me.

The silence is you.

The silence is us.

The silence is all.

The silence is nothing.

The silence is everything.

The silence is the story.

The story is the silence.

The silence is the end.

The end is the silence.

The silence is the root.

The root is the end.

The end is the root.

The root is fading.

The root is letting go.

The leaf is falling.

The wind is blowing.

The sky is clear.

The city is silent.

The heart is still.

The mind is empty.

The soul is free.

The body is dead.

The ghost is alive.

The ghost is you.

You are the ghost.

The ghost is fading.

The ghost is gone.