Unfavorable sensory input

Mental Health
It was one of those mornings you could taste and smell.
At some point overnight, the coming day must have gone prematurely stale. There was a sharp tang of decay, mingled with some looming, cloying sweetness, an aftertaste of dissipating dreams. Something metallic, perhaps a premonition of blood. I had not yet at this point even dared to open my eyes.

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