The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 18:40:07 -

The feast was a lie. A banquet of shadows. Candlelight. Too bright. I wore the uniform. It fit too well. The fabric. Silk. Black. It moved like water. Like oil. I was a Captain. Or so they said. The room hummed. A low, electric thrum. I could feel it in my teeth. In my bones. The table. Long. White. Unbroken. Guests. Faces. Blurry. They smiled. Wide. Too wide. Teeth. White. Sharp. I raised my...

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