The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 22:16:11 -

The Wistful Petal

The rose fell. It broke against the concrete. Not a soft landing. A shatter. Pink petals mixed with gray dust. I watched from the window. My hands were shaking. I held a cup of cold tea. The steam had long since vanished. The steam is a ghost now. The facility hums. It is a low sound. A vibration in the teeth. We are all here. The men in blue. The men in white. We wait. The waiting is the work....

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