The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-24 01:29:45 -

The Wistful Petal

Thorne. The name hung in the sterile air of the faculty lounge, heavy with the scent of burnt coffee and floor wax. He woke with a gasp, his left hand throbbing with a dull, purple ache. The dream had been vivid, as always: a wisteria vine, thick and knotted, blooming from his wrist, petals unfurling in a suffocating purple cloud. He looked at his hand. It was merely flesh, pale and trembling...

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