The Faded Photograph

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 20:29:06 -

The dream begins not with sound, but with the sheer, oppressive weight of white. It is a whiteness that has no origin, no horizon, only an infinite, sterile expanse that stretches out in every direction, blinding and absolute. I am standing in it, though I have no feet, only a sense of being suspended, of being held by the void itself. In my hands, or rather, where my hands should be, I hold a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews