The Faded Bouquet
The frost came down on the village of Oakhaven not as a weather event, but as a verdict. It settled on the slate roofs, on the iron gates of the old manor, and on the faces of the people who had gathered in the town square to watch the end of something they could no longer name. You stood at the edge of the crowd, your breath hanging in the air like a ghost refusing to leave, watching as the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews