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White MatterThe hard wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room offered little physical comfort, but Anne sat back in it, smiling calmly regardless. She preferred mild buttocks pain to the insufferably irritating interaction the other patients provided.White Matter by ~nautishko
She sat, eyes firmly shut, listening to the sound of the rickety old chair moan in protest as she rocked back and forth. Around her she heard quiet voices reciting nonsensical monologues repeatedly, the shuffling of feet on squeaky tiles and the occasional energetic outburst as 'Mr. Sporadic' jumped up out of his seat to proclaim that he had 'won'. What exactly it was that he always insisted he had
IlluminationHe had been only fifteen years old when he was shut away, but now, after enough time had passed for a beard to grow on his hollowed face, his yearning to return to the pleasant family home of his childhood ceased; this dark, dank-smelling room was where his heart was.Illumination by ~nautishko
It wasn't as though his needs weren't catered for down there. He had a small bathroom with a toilet that lead off the main room through a decaying archway, and though a majority of tiles were broken – being the cause of numerous light-deprived mishaps – it served its purpose. Food was lowered down to him twice a day via an old-fashioned laundry chute, and he could ide
Sta.sh
Much appreciated
