#0085. The secrets stack up and up and up. I stumble through the doors and the feeling of them takes my breath away. They steal breath. I pictured things like files or books. But secrets are living things. They wriggle and they spit venom. They are hideous. They carry with them a tremendous stench. They are vile things. The stack up and up and up. The place is overrun with them.
No comments:
Post a Comment