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The bannister is worn smooth, the hands of ghosts, quietly a feline statue greets you from the balcony. Downstairs grows dark, as if underwater, you imagine whales speaking the memory of time. From a window, you pause to notice, an ocean expanding from the water in your head - filling the lower floor. The sound of children playing comes from the bedroom, yet it could be the whales. The large and small, fall together in time, yet space breathes a wind divided.

+Enter the bedroom: PAGE 6
+Go back downstairs: PAGE 7