The night lifted, leaving behind it a grayish light the color of stagnant water. Soon there was only a tattered fragment of darkness, hanging in mid-air, the other side of the window. Fear caught my throat. The tattered fragment of darkness had a face. The face was my own.

πŸ“– Elie Wiesel

🌍 American  |  πŸ‘¨β€πŸ’Ό Novelist

πŸŽ‚ September 30, 1928  β€“  ⚰️ July 2, 2016
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In the aftermath of a night that has ended, a dull gray light remains, reminiscent of still water. This faint illumination contrasts sharply with a lingering shadow outside the window that stirs feelings of anxiety within the narrator. The darkness seems almost tangible, evoking a sense of foreboding.

As the narrator confronts this unsettling shadow, they realize that it takes the shape of their own face, reflecting inner turmoil and fear....

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March 09, 2025

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