The Faded Bouquet

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-20 08:36:06 -

The Faded Bouquet

The hall is dark. Too dark. The chandeliers are dead iron, weeping rust. You sit at the head of the long oak table. The wood is black and slick. Your hands are on the table. You do not move. The air is thick. It tastes of copper and old wine. You smell it on your tongue. A metallic tang. Blood? Or just the cold air? It is the same. The doors open. They creak. A groan of wood against wood. The...

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