The Faded Bouquet
The house breathes. You hear it in the walls, a low, wet inhalation that pulls the air from your lungs before you even know you are there. You are small. The shadows are long. You stand in the hallway, your shoes scuffing against the ancient stone, and the silence is not empty. It is full of waiting. You do not know why you are here. Or rather, you know the reason, but the reason feels like a...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima