{1} WHISPERS OF A BROKEN SPRING nothing is moving, even solitude seems immobile and infallible. my room has stayed on with the nonchalance of the last winter. ㅤㅤㅤit smells of roasted potatoes and damp laundry. silence walks around barefoot, with a candle perched on its head. ㅤㅤㅤeverything has become more imminent. the air outside is…