The Distant Metropolis

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 17:03:08 -

The glass is cold in your hand, the condensation running down the vein of your wrist like a tear that refuses to fall, and you are standing in the hallway of the house you built with your own hands, the house that is now a tomb for the living, holding the shatter of your own reflection. It is not a mirror. It is the windowpane of the front door, and you have broken it, or rather, the wind has...

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