The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 04:28:46 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain in Oakhaven didn’t wash things clean. It just made the grime slicker. I drove my truck down the lane, the wipers beating a slow, arrhythmic drum against the glass. The town was a collection of gray stone and damp brick, clinging to the hillside like lichen on a rotting tree. It smelled of wet wool and old coal. I was here to find a man. Or rather, a ghost. Or perhaps just a lie. The...

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