The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 14:32:58 -

The Wistful Petal

The dream was always the same. Clara stood at the edge of the bed, her mouth open, a thin ribbon of smoke curling from her lips. She did not speak. She did not need to. Elias Thorne tasted burnt sugar on his own tongue before he opened his eyes, the flavor so thick it coated the back of his throat like a varnish. He sat up, the sheets tangled around his ankles, and looked at his hand. The skin...

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