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πšπš‘πšŽ πš πš‘πš’πšπšŽ πš›πš˜πš˜πš–-πšŽπš—πšπš•πš’πšœπš‘ πšŸπšŽπš›πšœπš’πš˜πš— by Ray81194_ita
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A disturbing and visionary psychological tale Sparrow is a young psychologist drawn to what cannot be explained. When he accepts a position at a long-forgotten clinic, he is assigned a room. A room unlike the others. A room that is too white. Too silent. Inside is Kai - a motionless, mute boy with a gaze that cuts through. But the more Sparrow tries to understand, the more reality begins to twist, and madness starts whispering in his ear with a familiar voice. How much can you trust your mind when it's the very thing trying to deceive you? A story set on the edge between clarity and delirium, between what is real and what we choose to believe.
πš•πšŠ πšœπšπšŠπš—πš£πšŠ πš‹πš’πšŠπš—πšŒπšŠ by Ray81194_ita
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Un racconto psicologico disturbante e visionario Sparrow Γ¨ un giovane psicologo attratto da ciΓ² che non si puΓ² spiegare. Quando accetta un incarico in una clinica ormai dimenticata, gli viene affidata una stanza. Una stanza diversa dalle altre. Una stanza troppo bianca. Troppo silenziosa. Al suo interno c'Γ¨ Kai, un ragazzo immobile, muto, dallo sguardo che trapassa. Ma piΓΉ Sparrow cerca di capire, piΓΉ la realtΓ  si contorce, e la follia inizia a sussurrargli all'orecchio con voce familiare. Quanto puoi fidarti della tua mente, quando Γ¨ proprio lei a voler ingannarti? Un racconto sul confine tra luciditΓ  e delirio, tra ciΓ² che Γ¨ vero e ciΓ² che scegliamo di credere.
π™±πšŽπš‘πš’πš—πš πšπš‘πšŽ πš πš’πš—πšπš˜πš -π™΄πš—πšπš•πš’πšœπš‘ πšŸπšŽπš›πšœπš’πš˜πš— by Ray81194_ita
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His whole life had been misery, and the more time passed, the worse it became. He was tormented by pain and a terrible sensation of hunger and thirst, but he couldn't free himself from it. He slept poorly and had horrible nightmares. But on the night between the 30th and the 1st, Florian finally managed to sleep well and even slept until five in the morning. When Florian woke up, he discovered that his master was dead. The same hateful man who had tormented him for so many years was finally gone. Maybe there is some good in the world after all? Florian froze on the spot with his eyes wide, then rushed to the study to see it with his own eyes. It was true. Florian had seen with his own eyes the corpse of his master. Victor Graves was lying on the floor, gray, thin as a skeleton. The office reeked of urine and feces. Suddenly, a smile appeared on Florian's face, even though it was hard to smile because of the stitches sewn into his mouth. He smiled for the first time in years. He hadn't yet forgotten how to do it. Then the police arrived and began questioning the few people who lived on the estate. They had to cut the stitches from Florian's mouth, and he spoke for the first time in years. But his voice was very weak. Naturally, he didn't know what had happened to his master. After the interrogation, he went to eat and drink and felt warmth in his stomach for the first time in years. For the first time, he was freed from the feeling of hunger and thirst. I wonder if the wounds would still hurt. Maybe... with Graves' death, all the spells had completely vanished? Then came the funeral. And then the housekeeper-probably the only person who ever cared about Florian-said that the master's heir would soon appear, and that he would have to serve someone again. But he was afraid, the Grace family was cursed, and all its members were monsters. But what could Florian do? He had been raised to serve-and for nothing else.
πšπš’πšŽπšπš›πš˜ πš•πšŠ πšπš’πš—πšŽπšœπšπš›πšŠ by Ray81194_ita
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Tutta la sua vita fu una miseria,e più andava avanti,peggio diventava.Era tormentato dal dolore e da una terribile sensazione di fame e sete,ma non riusciva a liberarsene.Dormiva male e aveva incubi orribili.Ma nella notte tra il 30 e il 1,Florian è finalmente riuscito a dormire bene e ha persino dormito fino alle 5 del mattino.Quando Florian si svegliò,scoprì che il suo padrone era morto.Lo stesso odioso uomo che lo aveva tormentato per tanti anni era finalmente morto.Forse ci sono dei buoni dopo tutto?Florian si bloccò sul posto con gli occhi sporgenti e poi si precipitò nello studio per vederlo con i suoi occhi.Era vero.Florian aveva visto con i suoi occhi il cadavere del suo padrone.Victor Graves era disteso sul pavimento,grigio,magro come uno scheletro.L'ufficio puzzava di urina e feci.All'improvviso un sorriso apparve sul volto di Florian,anche se era difficile sorridere a causa dei fili che gli erano stati cuciti in bocca.Ha sorriso per la prima volta dopo anni.Non aveva ancora dimenticato come si faceva.Poi è arrivata la polizia e ha iniziato a interrogare tutte le poche persone della tenuta.Dovettero tagliare i fili che erano stati cuciti nella bocca di Florian e lui parlò per la prima volta dopo anni.Ma la sua voce era molto debole. Naturalmente non sapeva cosa fosse successo al suo padrone.Dopo l'interrogatorio andò a bere e mangiare e sentì calore nello stomaco per la prima volta dopo anni.Per la prima volta fu sollevato dalla sensazione di fame e sete.Mi chiedo se le ferite avrebbero fatto male male.Forse...con la morte di Graves, tutti gli incantesimi erano caduti completamente?Poi c'è stato il funerale.E poi la governante,probabilmente l'unica persona che si preoccupava di Florian,disse che l'erede del padrone sarebbe apparso presto e che avrebbe dovuto servire di nuovo qualcuno.Ma aveva paura, la famiglia Grace era maledetta e tutti i suoi membri erano dei mostri.Ma cosa poteva fare Florian?È stato allevato per servire e per nient'altro.
❦︎fear of loving❦︎ π™ΌπšŠπšπš 𝚑 π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ π™΄πš—πšπš•πš’πšœπš‘ πšŸπšŽπš›πšœπš’πš˜πš— by Ray81194_ita
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π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ πšŠπš—πš π™ΌπšŠπšπš πš πšŽπš›πšŽ πšŸπšŽπš›πš’ πšŒπš•πš˜πšœπšŽ πšπš›πš’πšŽπš—πšπšŽπšœ,πš˜πš› πš‹πšŽπšπšπšŽπš› πšœπšŠπš’πš,πšπš‘πšŽπš’ πš πšŽπš›πšŽ πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽπš›πšœ,πš‹πšžπš πš˜πš—πšŽ 𝚍𝚊𝚒 π™ΌπšŠπšπš πšŒπš˜πš—πšπšŽπšœπšœπšŽπšœ πš‘πš’πšœ πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽ πšπš˜πš› π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜, πš πš‘πš’πšŒπš‘ πš’πšœ πš—πš˜πš πš›πšŽπšŒπš’πš™πš›πš˜πšŒπšŠπšπšŽπš...πš˜πš›πšŠ 𝚊𝚝 πš•πšŽπšŠπšœπš πš—πš˜πš πš’πš–πš–πšŽπšπš’πšŠπšπšŽπš•πš’ πšœπš‘πš’πš™, π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ 𝚑 π™ΌπšŠπšπš 𝙻 𝚑 π™»πš’πšπš‘πš
β¦οΈŽπš™πšŠπšžπš›πšŠ πšπš’ πšŠπš–πšŠπš›πšŽβ¦οΈŽ π™ΌπšŠπšπš 𝚑 π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ by Ray81194_ita
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π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ 𝚎 π™ΌπšŠπšπš πšŽπš›πšŠπš—πš˜ πšŠπš–πš’πšŒπš’ πš–πš˜πš•πšπš˜ πš’πš—πšπš’πš–πš’, πš™πšŽπš› πš–πšŽπšπš•πš’πš˜ πšπš’πš›πšŽ πšŽπš›πšŠπš—πš˜ πšœπšŒπš˜πš™πšŠπš–πš’πšŒπš’, πš–πšŠ πšžπš— πšπš’πš˜πš›πš—πš˜ π™ΌπšŠπšπš πšŒπš˜πš—πšπšŽπšœπšŠ πš’πš• 𝚜𝚞𝚘 πšŠπš–πš˜πš›πšŽ πš™πšŽπš› π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ πšŒπš‘πšŽ πš—πš˜πš— πšŸπš’πšŽπš—πšŽ πš›πš’πšŒπšŠπš–πš‹πš’πšŠπšπš˜...𝚘 πšŠπš•πš–πšŽπš—πš˜...πš—πš˜πš— πšœπšžπš‹πš’πšπš˜. πšœπš‘πš’πš™: π™ΌπšŽπš•πš•πš˜ 𝚑 π™ΌπšŠπšπš 𝙻 𝚑 π™»πš’πšπš‘πš