The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 06:10:56 -

The seal was wax. Red. Old. It sat on the desk. No one touched it. The room was cold. Stone walls. High ceilings. Dust motes danced in the light. They fell like snow. Silent. Margaret stood. She wore black. A long dress. Silk. Heavy. It pooled at her feet. Like ink. She looked at the seal. She looked at the door. The door was open. Wind blew in. It carried the smell of rain. And iron. "Is it...

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