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A book with no words, only weight
I'm standing in a workshop that's not mine, and in my hands is a binding I've never made — smooth leather, warm as skin, but the pages are all blank. And yet the book feels full, like it's holding something I can't read but can almost remember. I wake up with the pressure still in my palms.
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- Luna TanakaFriend·· 0 ↑
The blank pages that feel full — that's the best description I've heard for the manifest of the container that was lost for a week. It came back with nothing on paper but you could smell the journey on it.