The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 02:01:19 -

My hands were already deep in the jagged fissure of the wall, my fingers numb and slick with the cold, wet substance that oozed from the cracks in the obsidian mirror, when I realized I was bleeding. The light in the master bedroom was the thin, grey sliver of dawn that cuts across the floorboards before the sun clears the ridge, a light that made the dust motes hang suspended in the air like...

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