The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-19 21:43:04 -

The Faded Bouquet

The bell in the steeple of St. Jude’s did not ring at dawn. It screamed. A jagged, iron shriek that tore through the grey mist clinging to the cobblestones of Ashworth. It was a sound no one in the village had heard in forty years. Not since the plague. Not since the fire. Elias Vance dropped his cup. The ceramic shattered against the flagstones, a sharp, brittle punctuation to the chaos...

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