The Wistful Show

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2026-08-21 21:50:31 -

The Wistful Show

The crow sat on the lintel. It did not caw. It watched. Elias looked up from his ledger. He put the quill down. The ink was still wet. "Is that yours?" he asked. The room was silent. Dust motes drifted in the shaft of light. "It is the morning," the voice said. It was not a sound. It was a pressure. Elias felt the weight of it. He looked at the bird again. The feathers were black. They were not...

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