The Wistful Letter

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 17:30:53 -

The water rose. It did not trickle. It swallowed the cellar floor. I stood in the dark, the cold biting through my wool coat. I was a detective. I hunted ghosts. But this ghost had weight. It had the smell of wet earth and rot. My father was here. I knew it. Not in the flesh. In the silence. The silence was a mouth. It ate the sound of my breathing. The house was old. Victorian bones. Stone and...

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