The Wistful Voyage

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 01:18:28 -

The rain hit the windows of the precinct with a rhythm that felt like a drumline. I watched the water streak down the glass, blurring the neon signs of the city outside into smeared colors. Inside, the air was stale, thick with the smell of cold coffee and wet wool. I sat at my desk, the wood scarred by years of pen points and spilled ink. My name is Arthur. I have worn the badge for twenty...

0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare