The Wistful Ashes
You stand before the glass wall of the archive, your reflection a ghostly smear against the cold, blue light of the server room, and you think, with a clarity that feels like a blade drawn slowly across the back of your neck, that you have always been the one who was wrong, that the silence you cultivated was not a shield but a cage, and the truth of it is that you do not remember when you...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare