The Faded Bouquet

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 20:54:50 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a heavy, suspended grief that pressed against the windows of the carriage like a pale, translucent hand. Edward Ashworth sat in the corner, his spine rigid against the velvet upholstery, his hands resting on his knees with a stillness that was not peace but a held breath. Across from him, Eleanor sat with her head bowed, the white veil she...

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