The Wistful Petal

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-18 11:20:43 -

The Wistful Petal

The coat hung on the hook by the door. It was red. Not a soft crimson, not a deep burgundy, but a violent, screaming red. It looked like a wound that had not yet learned to close. I watched it sway in the draft from the open window. The wind in Oakhaven was different this year. It carried the scent of wet asphalt and old paper. It smelled of a city that was trying to forget itself. My name is...

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