Dear Diary,
Today, the pulsing in the walls grew stronger. It’s like the room is waking up, coming back to life after a long sleep. The air is thicker now, charged with energy, and the silence is no longer empty—it’s expectant, filled with the promise of something just beyond reach.
Signed,
The Youngest of Patricks
[ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ] [ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ] [ ] [ ][ ]