The Faded Apartment
The dream is always the same, a recurring fracture in the mind’s eye where the glass facade of the Whitmore Building shatters not from wind but from the sheer weight of its own ambition, the shards falling in slow motion against the soot-stained brick of the industrial city below. You wake at four in the morning, your hands trembling with the residual adrenaline of the fall, the cold air of the...
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