The Faded Root

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 12:58:29 -

The Faded Root

The conference room smelled of stale coffee and aggressive ambition, a scent that had become the perfume of my existence. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; time had begun to blur into a viscous, unbroken stream, flowing only forward and never, ever back. I sat at the head of the long mahogany table, the wood polished to a mirror sheen that reflected my own face back at me with an...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews