The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 21:39:50 -

The frost bit deep into the iron. It clung to the mesh of my duty belt. It settled in the hollows of my collar. I stood by the window. The city slept below. A cold, industrial sleep. Steam rose from the vents. It curled into the dark. I looked at my hands. They were still. They were steady. I was a machine of precision. I was the state. I was the law. But the law was a blade. It cut both ways....

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews