The Faded Bouquet

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 22:54:23 -

The Faded Bouquet

Thorne. The word hangs in the air of the station office, heavy and cold, like the wet wool of your coat. You stand in the doorway, hands at your sides, feeling the damp seep through the fabric. The clock on the wall ticks with a mechanical indifference that grates against the silence. It is a Tuesday, the kind of gray, sludge-heavy day where the industrial smog sits low over Oakhaven, choking...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews