The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-22 16:01:44 -

The Wistful Petal

The Minister’s shadow fell across your desk before he spoke, a long, soot-darkened shape that seemed to absorb the gaslight. You were hunched over the rationing logs, your fingers stained with the graphite dust of the Red Ledger’s cross-references, when he leaned in, his breath smelling of mint and old paper. "Elias," he said, his voice a low rasp that vibrated in the hollow of your chest. "You...

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