Journal of Jonathan Sims, The Archivist

It’s like there’s a, a door, in my mind. A-a-and behind it is, is the entire ocean. Before, I didn’t notice it, but now, I – I know it’s there, and I can’t forget it, and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. I – I – I can keep it closed? But sometimes, when I’m around p-people, or.. places, or.. ideas? A drop or two will push through the cracks at the edges of the door. And I’ll… know something.

What happens if you open the door?

I drown.