The Wistful Witness

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 20:10:21 -

The wool coat was red. Not the bright crimson of a fire engine, but the deep, arterial red of dried blood. It sat on the back of the chair by the stove, waiting. I have worn it for forty years. It is the only thing I own that does not fade. I dreamed of the river last night. The water was black and thick, like oil. My daughter, Elara, was walking on the surface. She did not sink. She looked...

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