The Faded Attic

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2026-08-17 20:07:21 -

The Faded Attic

The train moved north. It shook. I felt it in my teeth. The car was dark. My hand was cold. It rested on the steel rail. The metal was rough. It bit into my palm. I did not pull away. I needed the pain. Pain was real. The dark was not. I was a Captain. Or I had been. The title felt heavy. It sat on my shoulders like a stone. I wore the uniform. It was too clean. It smelled of starch and fear. I...

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