The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 19:31:57 -

The dream was thin. It stretched across the ceiling of the study like a membrane of grey silk. Thomas stood before the window. The glass was cold. It wept condensation. He watched the rain. It fell in sheets. It erased the garden. It erased the world. He did not blink. He did not breathe. He was a statue. He was a shadow. He was nothing. He woke. The room was dark. The air was still. He sat on...

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