The Wistful Atlas

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 21:37:27 -

The Wistful Atlas

The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet asphalt and rust. I sat in the back of the county bus, my back pressed against the cold metal, watching the gray blur of the highway unspool through the window. My hands were tucked into the pockets of my coat, fingers curled tight against the lining. I was waiting for the stop. I was waiting for the life that was supposed to be there, the...

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