The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-21 10:02:59 -

The air in the ward tasted of copper and old paper. I stood by the window, watching the rain streak the glass. The rain was constant here. It seemed to fall on the institution of St. Jude’s from the moment the gates closed behind me until the moment they opened for my release. Or for my burial. It was hard to tell the difference anymore. I was a man of procedure. I had spent twenty years in the...

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