The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 05:52:12 -

The Wistful Ashes

The pen is broken. I am holding the stub of a 3B lead, the tip snapped clean, pressing it against the cold, damp slate of my desk until the graphite smears into a black smear that looks like a bruise. The room is forty degrees. The heating in Sector 4 has been off since Tuesday, and the air smells of wet wool and the metallic tang of old blood. My hands are shaking, not from the cold, but from...

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