The Wistful Asylum

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 12:16:16 -

The mirror is cracked. Not broken, mind you. Just a single, jagged vein running from the top left corner down to the bottom right. Like a lightning strike frozen in glass. You run your finger over it. It’s cold. Always cold. In this place, the air doesn’t move. It sits heavy on your skin, tasting of old iron and lavender water. You know what this means. You have always known. But you pretend...

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