The Wistful Letter

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-19 02:48:53 -

The rain hit the window like a fist. It did not knock. It struck. I sat in the corner of the basement. The walls were damp. The air tasted of mildew and iron. I was alone. I had been alone for three days. Or maybe four. Time had lost its shape here. It pooled in the corners like the water on the floor. My friend, Elias, had left me a jar. It sat on the table before me. It was filled with a...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima