The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-22 09:15:45 -

The Wistful Petal

You dream of a door. It is made of brass. It is heavy. It sits in a wall of white stone. The wall is cold. You reach for the handle. Your fingers are stiff. They look like your father’s hands. They are not his hands. But they feel the same. The cold bites through the glove. You turn the handle. It does not move. You pull. The metal groans. A low sound. Like a dying animal. You stop. You...

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