The Wistful Cipher

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 18:56:27 -

The rain hit the cobblestones. It sounded like static. I stood in the alley. My hands were cold. I held a piece of paper. It was thin. It was wet. The ink had run. It formed shapes. I knew the shapes. I had seen them before. In the mirror. In the dark. They were letters. They were my name. I am a man who finds things. I find the lost. I find the hidden. I find the truth. Or so I am told. I am...

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