The Wistful Campus

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 18:01:18 -

The dream always starts with the sound of ice cracking in a frozen lake, a sharp, brittle fracture that runs through the marrow of my left hand until the knuckles pop and the skin splits, revealing not blood but shards of clear, cold glass that scatter across the floor of a room I cannot quite see. I wake in the blue pre-dawn light of my small apartment, my fingers curled into a fist that has...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews