The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 11:56:47 -

The Wistful Ashes

The building did not breathe. It stood. A grey slab of concrete and glass, rising from the damp earth like a tombstone for a god that had never existed. Margaret knew the texture of the walls. She knew the cold bite of the steel desk. She knew the way the fluorescent lights hummed, a low, constant drone that vibrated in her teeth. It was a Tuesday. Or a Wednesday. Time had lost its shape here....

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