The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-18 12:41:06 -

The Wistful Petal

I dreamed of iron. Not the cold kind. The hot kind. The kind that burns the soul before the skin. I saw the bars. I saw the sky. It was small. A square of blue. I was there. I was free. Or so it seemed. The dream ended. The alarm screamed. I was in my cell. The walls were white. They were too white. They hurt the eyes. I was a soldier. I was a guard. I was a man. I was nothing. The pay was...

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