The Faded Frequency
Dream. Static. White noise. I am in the attic. Dust motes. Floating. Gold dust. Sunlight. Harsh. Blinding. The radio. Old. Cracked wood. I touch it. Warm. Alive. I turn the dial. Click. Hiss. Silence. Click. Hiss. Silence. I know this sound. I have always known this sound. It is the sound of nothing. It is the sound of everything. I wake up. Sweat. Cold. Sheet. Sticky. The room is dark....
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