The Wistful Asylum

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 23:36:22 -

You are lying in a bed that is not yours, in a room that smells of lavender and stale copper, and the dream that has held you since the moment the ambulance wheels stopped spinning is not a nightmare but a garden, a vast, overgrown expanse of white lilies that pulse with a slow, rhythmic bioluminescence, as if the flowers themselves are breathing in your stead, and you are not a man but a root...

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