The Chrysalis Room

A study in pale silence

Image created by the author using ChatGPT.

The radiator sang a tinny hymn of winter, and the walls exhaled their damp breath. She counted the cracks in the ceiling until they became maps, veins, roads leading nowhere. The tea sat untouched, its amber glow fading like a candle guttering in a storm.

On the sill, a moth beat itself to exhaustion, its wings dusting the glass like the ghost of snowfall. She watched it without blinking, hands still as tombstones. Somewhere beyond the window, life went on — a child crying, a dog barking — but in this room, time crouched like a feral thing, waiting to pounce.

The moth finally stilled, its fragile body folding in defeat. She envied it for knowing when to give up.

I’m Ani Eldritch. Thanks for reading.