Walking through walls

It’s turning inward now, reflecting back an image. I observe the disgust and despair folding pages over.

There’s new lines being written, fresh ink flowing down. Several blotches are smeared.

It’s unfortunate. I understand the language, and can’t translate the results.

You’ll have to infer the knowledge without loosing your head. One of those impossibly convoluted side-quests on order.

It won’t be long now, till the shoe finds the other foot

leaving scuff marks on the floor

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