that poor lady turned to stone

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24. Boston. i appreciate the sassy people in life.


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It was a place unlike anything I had ever seen before. When I came across it, I felt the mossy earth shift, as though someone had just cracked a whip beneath my feet. I stood for what felt like hours in front of the swamp. Somewhere in the distance, between the forest of knifed reeds, I saw something glinting. It almost looked like it could have been a hatch or a doorknob. I took a step closer, squinting until I was sure of the adventure that stood before me. As I moved into the water, I did not realize the moss behind me—only the parts touched by my feet—began to form itself into primal looking letters that spelled out, “Welcome to The Mad House.”
-E.J. Doge

(Search archive for previous posts on E.J. Doge, and the Mad House, if you are interested to know more)



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