Whitewash

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The walls are white. At least Lena thinks there are walls. She's not even sure there's a floor. The white melts together making it seem like she's in a void. Aren't voids supposed to be black? Or maybe a soft grey that you can get lost in?

She thinks she's floating... or maybe lying down on the floor. If there is a floor, she repeats. Is she speaking or just thinking? She can't tell. Her beak doesn't move but the words are loud.

Or are they quiet?

She's weightless... no gravity here to pull her down. Where would it even pull her down to? No floor... or maybe a floor.

Its bright, too bright. She closes her eyes but all she sees is white. Its tiring. Too tiring.

Her mind is an endless fog, repeating. Fogs are white, she muses out loud. And the walls are white...

Heart's Desire, Heart's Pain {LouWebena}Where stories live. Discover now