The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-19 18:07:45 -

"You are late." The voice is sharp. It cuts the air. I look up. Mr. Bradshaw stands by the door. He wears his grey suit. It fits him well. He looks like a stone. He looks like a wall. I am late. I am always late. My shoes are muddy. The rain has not stopped. It falls on the glass. It falls on the trees. The schoolyard is grey. It is always grey. "I lost my watch," I say. My voice is small. It...

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