Prosthetic Precognition: Chapter 31
Noise
Nothing happens.
No grand burst of cosmic wind, no skittering whispers of shifting shadows. Silence does not break, does not waver— only stretches, deepens, pressing against my ears like hands cupped around my head. It is a silence so dense, so absolute, that it almost feels like sound. And through thick noisy quiet, Freida watches me.
I don’t have …
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