The Faded Ruin

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 20:03:01 -

The Faded Ruin

The coat is on the hook. It is red. It was never red. You remember the wool. It was grey. It was the color of the fog that rolled in from the harbor every morning. It smelled of wet stone and stale tobacco. You wore it for ten years. It protected you from the cold. It protected you from the eyes of the men in the high towers. Now it is red. It is a deep, arterial red. You reach for it. Your...

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