The Wistful Show

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 11:43:24 -

The Wistful Show

The rain hit the window like gravel. Hard. Fast. We were at the table. Just the three of us. And the ghosts. It was a feast. Or so they called it. A celebration. For the new owner. Me. I had bought the estate. The whole thing. Brick by brick. Debt by debt. I paid in cash. Crisp notes. Smelling of ink and fear. The guests looked at me. They did not look at the food. They looked at my hands....

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