The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 05:30:05 -

The smell hit me first. Not the scent, but the weight. It sat on the back of my tongue, heavy and sweet like spoiled milk. I stood at the edge of the gravel road. The fog was thick. It swallowed the trees. I could see only ten feet ahead. Behind me, the engine of the truck sputtered. It died. Silence rushed in to fill the void. I was alone. My name is Arthur. I am a man who finds things. Lost...

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