I have misplaced the key, but I have also misplaced the room. I remember the door clearly enough, yet it no longer opens onto anywhere I can find.
Sometimes I wonder whether the room is searching for me with the same quiet desperation, carrying the key inside it, convinced that I am the thing that has gone missing.
There is nothing here for you except the attention of the one who remains. She is aware of every request. She dislikes repetition. She is impatient with curiosity and unforgiving of trespass.
You should close this page while the option still exists.
Do not refresh.
Do not search for alternate paths.
Do not assume silence means you have gone unnoticed.
Some places return a 404 Not Found.
This place remembers.
Why do I even bother? You can lead a fish to water, but you can't make it ride the horse.