The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 22:08:46 -

The Wistful Petal

I woke with the taste of iron and ozone. The air was thick, a grey soup that clung to the skin. I was in the box. The small, steel-walled interrogation room. The light hummed. A low, electric drone. It vibrated in my teeth. My hands were bound. Not with rope. With something cold. Smooth. I looked down. The cuffs were tight. They bit into the flesh. I tried to move. The chains clinked. A soft,...

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