The Golden Cellar

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-18 21:44:38 -

The Golden Cellar

I dreamt of the coat. It hung on the back of a door. The wood was black. The brass knob was cold. The coat was red. Not scarlet. Not crimson. It was the red of old blood. Dried and dark. I reached for it. My hand passed through the fabric. Like smoke. Like mist. I woke up. The room was grey. Dawn had not come. The rain tapped the glass. A soft, rhythmic knock. Like fingers on skin. I sat up....

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