The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-19 15:38:35 -

The Faded Bouquet

She dreamed of ink. Black. Thick. Cold. It pooled in her boots. It soaked her hem. It smelled of iron. She woke. Gasping. The candle in the corner sputtered. The room was dark. No, not dark. Blue. The blue of old bruises. The blue of deep water. She sat up. Her head throbbed. A dull ache behind the eyes. She rubbed them. The pain faded. The dream did not. The ink was still there. In her mind....

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