The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 19:26:29 -

The Wistful Petal

The roof came off. Not all at once. It peeled. One tile, then three, then the entire shingled skin of the attic studio flapped in the wind like dead skin. I watched it go. I was sitting at my desk, the wood warped by humidity, my hands stained with graphite. The air in the room was heavy. It smelled of rot and old paper. I did not move. I waited for the rain. It did not come. Only the wind. My...

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