The Faded Photograph

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 18:27:46 -

I wake with the taste of copper on my tongue. The dream was sharp. It was a room made of glass, infinite and cold, and I was standing in the center of it. There was no floor. Just light. I turned, and my reflection did not turn with me. It stood still. It smiled. I screamed, but the sound died in my throat. I am awake now. The rain is tapping against the window of my apartment in Seattle. It is...

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