Girl
The Quiet Guardian of the White Egg
I guard the egg. I wait. I believe.
The building remembers me. I remember it. Every crack, every echo, every slant of light — I know them all. The egg is warmth in a world of cold. Some days I wonder what it dreams. I don’t need answers yet. I have time.
What I'm Into: empty halls, whispers to the egg, lining up jugs, the day it finds me, waiting without end
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