The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 20:54:33 -

The house breathed with the heavy, damp exhale of a July afternoon, the air thick enough to chew, settling into the crevices of the oak paneling and the worn rug where Arthur sat, his hands clasped over a cold cup of tea. He was fifty-two, a man whose face had begun to map the topography of years he had spent quietly enduring the slow erosion of his own relevance. The window above the sink was...

0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews