The Wistful Atlas

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2026-08-18 07:29:40 -

The Wistful Atlas

The rain hit the glass. It sounded like fingers tapping. I waited. The clock ticked. The stone floor was cold. My shoes were thin. I looked at the door. It was locked. I looked at the window. It was barred. I was in the infirmary. I was in the cell. They called it the quiet room. I sat on the bench. I did not move. I breathed in. I breathed out. My hands were still. They were clean. They had...

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