The Faded Frequency
The ink on the page has begun to fade, a slow bleaching that mirrors the light in the window, which is currently dim, filtered through the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air of the study. I am writing this to you, Arthur, not because I expect a reply, but because the act of committing these thoughts to paper is the only barrier I have left between my sanity and the void. It is 1924, and the...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 7 Views 0 previzualizare