The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 16:24:09 -

The rain on the roof of the Greyhound station was a sound like tearing silk, a continuous, wet unraveling that seemed to pull at the seams of the world and keep them from holding together for much longer. I sat in the plastic chair, the one with the slat missing from the backrest, feeling the cold dampness seep through my cheap coat and into the marrow of my bones, which felt as brittle as the...

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