The Faded Masquerade

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 02:23:25 -

The flour sack on the counter was white, then grey, then brown, much like the skin of my hands after a day spent scrubbing the rust off the old tractor. I watched the dust motes dance in the slant of afternoon light, settling into the creases of the wood, a slow, silent burial of the present moment. In the village of Oakhaven, time did not move; it pooled. It accumulated in the corners of the...

0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare