The Faded Bouquet
What does a lockkeeper know of the weight of water? Rania Rahal stood in the suffocating dark of the ancestral cellar, her hands trembling as she crushed the last of the black mold blooming on the family’s medicinal herbs. The air tasted of rot, a thick, cloying sweetness that coated the tongue like old syrup, and the shadows seemed to breathe against her skin, pressing in from the damp stone....
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews