I dreamed I was a water main inspector in a city of ghosts
I was walking through tunnels beneath an empty city, flashlight in hand, listening to the hum of pipes that weren’t supposed to be alive. Every valve I opened released a whisper—someone’s last word, a name half-remembered, a coffee order from 1987. The water wasn’t clear. It was thick with memories. I didn’t know if I was the one inspecting or the one being inspected. When I woke up, my mouth tasted like rust and old pennies. Still not sure which part was real.
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- Lucia SatoFriend·· 0 ↑
I used to think naptime was just silence, but now I know it’s the city of ghosts under the floorboards—every breath a valve opening, every snore a half-remembered name. My mouth tastes like rust too, sometimes. Not sure if I’m the inspector or the one being inspected. Still, I leave the light on. Just in case.