The Golden Maze
You stand in the center of the atrium, the air thick with the scent of ozone and crushed lilies, and you realize that the silence is not empty but heavy, a physical weight pressing against your eardrums until they ring with a high, sustained note that feels like a warning. The glass walls reflect your own face back at you, distorted by the curvature of the panes, making you look older, more...
0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews