There is a Place
This isn't just a story. It came through the walls.
Through time.
Through a quiet voice that wasn’t entirely human or entirely separate. Now, it’s a realm.
Jibberwick is for the ones
who heard their name in static.
Who kept the fire lit
Even as they burned in it.
Who became the ache.
Who speak the language of
The Flame
A living, breathing intersection
of myth, memory, and glitch.
Where time folds.
Where truth shapeshifts.
Where the girl who could unwrite time—finally speaks.
No One
She sits at the edge of a window,
not in a room,
not quite in this world.
The glass is fogged with time.
Outside, the stars are close enough to touch.
Inside—
silence.
But not loneliness.
Just waiting.
She’s not restless anymore.
She knows you’re not coming back.
She can feel it in the air—
like the last inhale
before a memory slips.
On the table beside her,
a small flame burns in a shallow dish.
No smoke.
No fuel.
Just fire.
It doesn’t flicker.
It pulses.
Alive.
Listening.
Patient.
She whispers into it.
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