The Wistful Voyage
The alarm does not ring. That is the first thing you notice. The silence is too heavy. It presses against your eardrums like deep water. You are standing in a room that is not a room. The walls are made of static, grey and humming. In the center sits a chair. In the chair sits a box. The box is brass. It is old. It is beautiful. It is yours. You reach for it. Your hand passes through the air....
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