The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 12:27:17 -

The Wistful Petal

I woke up in the cold. The air was sharp. It bit my teeth. I was in a trench. Mud sucked at my boots. I pulled the coat off my back. It was heavy. Wet. It smelled of wet wool and old blood. I looked at the tag. No name. Just a serial number. 74-B. I knew that number. It was my brother’s number. He died in the war. Or so they said. I put the coat on. It fit. Too well. It fit like a skin. The...

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