Générateur vocal IA Pumpkin two gratuit par Fish Audio

Yesterday I counted my reflections in the house mirrors. There were seven of me, or maybe seven of my brothers. We shared one apple between us. Nobody knows who actually ate it. Maybe the mirror people took it. It was filling, though.

The coffee had grown cold, forgotten like so many things in this cramped apartment. Through the window, the city lights flickered like dying stars, each one holding someone else's story. He wondered if they too sat awake at 3 AM, haunted by the words they never said.

Remember the good times? I thinking about our adventures together. Miss those days when we laugh and share stories. Maybe we can meet soon? Its been too long since last time. Just wanna see your smile again.

I've heard stories about what you're capable of when the blood starts to boil. It would be a real shame if we couldn't find a way to settle this like civilized men. So tell me, are you going to listen, or do I have to make you?

The walls whisper tonight. 312 steps from my bed to the window. I watch shadows dance, remember her smile. It burns inside. Time moves like thick syrup, drowning memories. They say I'm better now. But the echoes never stop. Never stop.

I've seen this condition before. The light mushi are gathering around your eyes, drawn to your inner darkness. You've been keeping yourself isolated too long. The treatment is simple, but you'll need to trust me. I'm here to help.

The walls whisper tonight. 312 steps from my bed to the window. I watch shadows dance like they used to. My hands shake. The memories flood back, bitter and sharp. Someone's laughter echoes down the hall. Not real. Never real anymore.

I've seen these symptoms before. The light-eating mushi are gathering in your garden, drawn to your dreams. Don't worry, I can help. But first, we need to clear the darkness from your home. The treatment isn't difficult, but it requires patience.