The Golden Greenhouse
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, the ink still wet with the bureaucratic smell of the city’s dampness, stating that the Department of Urban Aesthetics had classified my body as a "Visual Hazard" and required its immediate dismantling. I read it twice, sitting on the edge of the bed in my small, soot-stained apartment, where the radiator clanked a slow, arhythmic heartbeat against the freezing...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima