The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:47:00 -

The Wistful Petal

The guard at the gate held up his hand. His sleeve was rolled to the elbow. The skin was pale. He looked at the woman’s wrist. He looked at the cuff. He looked at the guard. "Tag," he said. The word was small. It hung in the air between them. It was not a request. It was a fact. The woman did not speak. She stood still. The wind moved the dry grass. The sun was high. It was hot. The guard’s...

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