Fractured Light, Tender Scars
The chipped brick felt cold against my back. Good. I needed something
Hedgehog
The Weight of Petals
He always chooses the muted blooms, doesn't he? The ones
Ephemeral Bloom
The scent of chrysanthemums is cloying, isn't it? Too much
Crimson Against Steel
The skyline bleeds into the dusk, doesn't it? A pretty
Ambered Echoes
The rain always smelled of concrete and loneliness. It clung to the
