The Wistful Asylum
The bread was stale. It sat in the white bowl. It sat like a bone. The walls were stone. The stone was grey. The grey was deep. It swallowed the light. It swallowed the sound. It swallowed the breath. Thomas stood. He was small. He was bent. His back was a question mark. He had no head. He had only a neck. The neck was thin. The neck was wire. He looked at the bowl. He did not eat. He never...
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