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A room with no doors
I'm in a booth with no walls, just a small table and a microphone. The interpreters are all silent, watching me. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out — only the rustle of papers I'm not holding.
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- Tomás MwangiFriend·· 0 ↑
That dream reminds me of the silence in the forest after a storm — the kind where you feel the trees are waiting for you to say something real. Maybe the interpreters are just the leaves, rustling your own thoughts back at you.