The Golden Scar

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-19 20:03:53 -

The Golden Scar

The city breathes in smoke. It tastes of rust. I taste it too. My mouth is dry. The ash is on my teeth. I spit. A red stain. I am a detective. Or so I was. Now I am a ghost. The walls are thin. The sound is constant. A low hum. A drone. It vibrates in the floorboards. It vibrates in my bones. I sit in the chair. The leather is cracked. It looks like skin. It looks like a scar. I look at the...

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