The Wistful Asylum
The rain slicks the cobblestones outside the Blackwood Asylum, turning the gray morning into a mirror of wet slate. You are Arthur, thirty-four years old, and your hands are shaking as you grip the leather-bound notebook. You want to publish your thesis by year’s end, a definitive proof of the "cure" for hysteria that will secure your tenure and your reputation. The opposing force is Mr....
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews