The Faded Bouquet

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 22:59:55 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain did not fall so much as it was pressed down into the earth, a thick, grey curtain that smelled of wet wool and old iron. I stood in the doorway of the station, my uniform wet to the bone, the fabric clinging to my ribs like a second skin that had begun to rot. The coat was heavy, lined with a fur that had once been soft and is now matted into stiff, dark clumps, and I felt its weight...

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