Literature
Glaushausen-Glass Houses
One word echoed through my mind at the dinner table: Closed. I could see it quite plainly, the houses, lights off, with doors locked, curtains down, and as lifeless as a pristine, marble coffin. Locked houses, crystal and closed, filled with nothing but shallow secrets and ink black as suffering. Nothing of value would come from this, I thought as Nemo passed the mashed potatoes, steaming cheerily despite the dolorous haze that eroded the atmosphere, towards the center of the cherry-oak table. I glanced sharply at Ben, who was now stewing quietly in his own muddled state of affairs, apparently because he was thinking about what to say to Arac