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The sky is slowly killing itself up above while the streetlights flicker to life to show me the way home.
The stretched-out time the three of us endure is coated in the silence of unspoken words. I can feel walls of them, each letter, each syllable piling up on top of one another to form an unstable house of unanswered questions. Lies form the mortar, holding the walls together. If there weren’t so many lies, the walls would have collapsed by now. Instead we’ve built ourselves a prison.
