The Wistful Asylum
You stand before the gate. It is iron. It is rusted. The rust is deep. It eats the metal. It eats the light. You are a soldier. You wear the gray. You are old. Your knees ache. You are tired. You want to leave. You do not leave. You look up. The building is tall. It is stone. It is cold. It is empty. It was not always empty. It was full. It was full of sound. It was full of life. Now it is...
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