The Wistful Petal
The jar was glass. It was thick. It was blue. It sat on the table. It did not sit. It hovered. A fraction of an inch above the grain. The grain was oak. The oak was old. The oldness was a fact. The fact was cold. Silas looked at the jar. He did not blink. Blinking was a weakness. Blinking was time. Time was the enemy. The enemy had a face. The face was his. The face was smooth. The smoothness...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima