The Faded Masquerade

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 01:36:30 -

The ice on the lake is not a surface but a skin, a translucent membrane stretched over a void that breathes, and you lie upon it, your cheek pressed against the cold, feeling the vibration of your own pulse against the black water below, where the shadows of the trees twist in a rhythm that is not quite the wind, but something older, something that knows your name and hates it. You are here...

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