The Wistful Show

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 19:54:10 -

The Wistful Show

The mud was cold, but the blood was hot. It smelled of copper and old pennies, a scent that had replaced the rain in my nostrils hours ago. I stood in the center of the town square, my coat torn at the shoulder, the lining soaked through with a mix of sweat and the red fluid that had no longer belonged to me. Around me, the town of Oakhaven lay silent. Not the silence of peace, but the silence...

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