Talks about literature, the world, and everything in between.
I’m standing alone, off the center of an unknown room. The sewers threw up its insides and let the dirty water dry in this dank and dark place. There are no windows and the walls are tinted an eerie green, from the bacteria, mold, and decomposition of disintegrating material. I hear laughter from afar and…
by
“That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.”
– Emily Dickinson