The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:15:17 -

The rain hit the window in sheets. Gray. Cold. It sounded like static. Like a radio tuned between stations. I sat at the kitchen table. My back was straight. I kept it straight. Always. Marcus hated it when I slouched. He said it was a sign of defeat. I didn't think of it that way. I just didn't want the chair to creak. My hands were still. They rested on the wood. Pale. Thin. They looked like...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews