Acheron

Tintibulus, Jagged blocks tumble in darkness, holding frozen memories sapped by the River Styx and crystallized into fleeting images.

No-one is looking into it

At the scene of the crime is a verse from a poem, written with intestines laid out in beautiful cursive - it has

a connection to that deep rumble, that you might hear coming from below the surface of the paved roads from time to time.

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