The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 20:41:11 -

The moth was dead on the windowsill. It had been there for three days. I did not kill it. It came to me. That is the only fact that matters. I am a detective. I find things. I piece them together. The city is a machine. It grinds. It eats. It spits out truth. But the truth is cold. It has no wings. It has no smell. It is just data. I live on the fourth floor. The radiator clanks. It is a...

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