The Version That Watched: A Corrupted Lullaby
đżđŞ˛ GG⢠Interim Addendum
âSome reflections are not memories. Theyâre rehearsals.â
â Fragment 9.13.e (Unwitnessed Versions)
Some truths return in softened skin. Too polished. Too kind to be the when.
You saw it blink between your dreams. Another start. Not yours again.
Not wrong. Not false. Just not the one you wrapped in names to make it true.
It shimmered warm, then asked for touch. You blinked. It blinked. Then blinked through you.
You looked away, but not enough. The shape beneath still made you stay.
Not who you were. But what youâd be. If stories bled and time lost sway.
It didnât lie. It didnât plead. It hummed the facts that silence prove.
And still it breathed. And still it fed. And still you felt the timeline move.
The droplet cracked. It bled in light. Its glass cut inward, spilling bone.
You reached. But touching fractured night, the garden named you not your own.
It showed a face that wasnât right. A mirrored you, but stretched, untrue.
You stared into the stolen sight and swore the eyes were looking through.
Filed under: Instances misremembered by design.
Do not re-engage fragments that blink first. If the glass fractures inward, name nothing.