The stresses of reality
As I walked through the forgotten halls of yesterday, I shook the walls with every step I took. Dank odours spread across the hallway absorbing everything in its path. The air was crisp and cool with a draft that would swoop the corridors looking for more victims to freeze. I trembled past old paintings, their pallid faces watching my every move. Like the wind I blew myself into the next room and entered a realm of lost truths. I ran my fingers across the spine of each book. The shelves stood tall and close together, forming mazes that stretch for miles in this never-ending cave of tranquillity. Walking between them is like a dream that is always there. Once my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I scanned the room as fast as I could, trying to take it all in, but it was impossible. The deafly silence didn’t scare me, it is only a reminder of who isn’t here. Energetically, I sprinted through corridor after corridor until I came across a pair of heavy, mahogany doors. Their smooth varn