The Wistful Asylum

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 11:31:39 -

October 14, 1998 I dreamed last night that the wall was breathing, its grey stones expanding and contracting in a slow, rhythmic pulse that matched my own heartbeat, and when I woke in the cold dark of my room, the silence of the house felt heavier than before, as if the air itself had thickened with the weight of what I knew but had not yet spoken. I am twelve years old, and I have decided...

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