The railway station was almost forgotten—by the trains, by time, by the world. The tiles were cracked like old skin, the signs faded to near whispers of color, and the air tasted of rust and dampness. Weeds rose defiantly through the tracks, stubborn and alive in a place long left behind. Morning light spilled acrossContinue reading “The Waiting Room”
Tag Archives: wistful
The Empty Chair
Every morning, just as the sun filtered through the slatted blinds and bathed the little café by the square in a soft gold glow, he would come. Crisp coat, dark eyes, and that quiet kind of grace that made him look like he’d stepped out of a half-remembered dream. He never spoke much, only noddedContinue reading “The Empty Chair”
A Song for Yesterday
The café had not changed. The wooden beams still held the scent of old coffee, and the walls bore the same soft golden glow that once made everything feel warm, intimate. Daniel stepped inside, shaking off the evening chill, his fingers tightening around the edges of his coat. It had been years since he hadContinue reading “A Song for Yesterday”
Unknown, Unseen
In a humble home on the outskirts of a sleepy town, Adrien sat writing beneath the soft glow of a single lamp. The walls of his study, once alive with laughter and warmth, now felt heavy with stillness. His wife, once his closest friend, had become unresponsive and distant. His children, now grown and farContinue reading “Unknown, Unseen”
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