The Wistful Asylum

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:57:07 -

Eliot woke in the dark. The room was cold. The air tasted of iron and wet wool. He was not in his bed. He was in a cell. The walls were stone. They wept. Droplets fell. They hit the floor. They made a sound. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was a slow heartbeat. It was the only sound. He sat up. His head hurt. It throbbed behind his eyes. He looked at his hands. They were small. They were pale. They...

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