The Wistful Crossroads

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 05:59:53 -

The mirror cracks. Not shatters. Cracks. A web of silver veins spreading from the center, where your finger touched. You pull your hand back. The glass holds. But it is changed. It is no longer a window. It is a cage. You are in the office. The air smells of dust and old paper. The clock ticks. Tick. Tick. Tick. It is the only sound. Margaret stands by the window. She wears her grey coat. It is...

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