The Golden Echoes

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 11:47:31 -

The Golden Echoes

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a gray curtain that smelled of wet stone and old rust. It clung to the windows of the precinct, blurring the neon signs of the city into watercolor smears of pink and blue. I stood by the glass, my reflection a ghostly overlay on the street below. In my hand, I held a single dandelion. Its head was gone, blown away by the wind that had torn through...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews