The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 06:20:04 -

The rain hit the pavement like static. I saw it first in the dream. A wall of grey mist, solid and cold, pressing against my chest. I was running. My boots slipped on the slick asphalt. Ahead, the street was empty, save for a single figure standing under the awning of a closed pharmacy. "Stay back," I whispered. My voice was a stranger's. Rough. Old. The figure turned. It was me. Or a mirror of...

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