The Wistful Saga

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 18:22:21 -

The Wistful Saga

The fog rolls in from the lake. It tastes like wet iron and old pennies. You sit on the porch. The wood is cold against your back. You wait. You have always waited. The town of Oakhaven is sleeping. The streetlights hum. They buzz like trapped flies. You can see the houses. They are dark rectangles. You are the only one awake. You hold the jar in your lap. It is glass. It is thick. It is heavy....

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