The Faded Bouquet

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-20 19:12:12 -

The Faded Bouquet

The house breathed. It was a low sound. A wet, rhythmic intake of air through the plaster and the rot. I heard it first in the cellar. Then in the hall. Then in the room where I sat. I am a clerk. I work at the firm. I handle ledgers. I handle ink. I handle silence. The house is old. It sits on a hill in the north. The rain hits the slate. It sounds like fingernails on glass. I came to sort the...

0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση