Time takes its toll on everything that surrounds us. It destroys what is physical, crumbling even the sturdiest foundations, and it destroys our minds—our memories—shaping and twisting them into something new. You are never ready to face the past, but the past never lets you go. And so I find myself at the door, the handle disturbingly cold to the touch. I pull it open and enter what was once a place of solitude turned nightmare. I’m home, Father.
Watchers
Profile
Icon
