The Faded Bouquet
The air in the sub-basement of St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital did not smell of rot, as one might expect of a place where the living are systematically discarded, but of a sterile, aggressive antiseptic that clung to the back of the throat like a physical weight. It was a scent that erased individuality, scrubbing the human element from the room until only the machinery of survival remained. Here,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews