The Wistful Asylum
Elias woke with the taste of iron on his tongue. The dream was gone, dissolved like smoke in a draft, leaving only the heavy silence of the room. He lay still for a moment, listening to the wind rattle the windowpanes of the small apartment. It was a cold sound. A dry sound. He sat up. The sheets pooled at his waist. He did not pull them up. He stared at the wall. A crack ran through the...
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