The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-23 00:34:58 -

The Faded Ruin

14 October. The ink in the pen is drying out, turning into a stiff, dark crust at the nib, so I am pressing the steel harder against the paper, tearing the fibers as I write. I am writing this because I need to remember what it felt like to have a body that belonged to me, before the hum started to eat it away. The air in Sector 4 is always cold, a sterile chill that settles in the joints and...

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