The Weight of Unsent Messages
The light fell just so, didn't it?
Dust motes danced
Terminal Chronicler
Amber Reflections
The light bled from the candle, a bruised apricot staining the wall.
Amber Echoes
The streetlights bled orange onto the worn cotton of the quilt.
It
Rain on Crimson
The rain arrived like a slow, insistent regret. It smeared the city
Salt & Static
The sand still held the ghost of his heat. Not a scorching