The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 21:51:20 -

The house breathed. It was a wet, heavy exhalation. The walls sweated. The air tasted of copper and old rot. I sat in the center of the room. My knees were drawn up. The silence was not empty. It was full. Full of things that should not be. My father was gone. He had been gone for three days. Or perhaps three years. Time had lost its shape here. The clock on the mantle had stopped at eleven. It...

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