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4 stories found
You have flour on your cheek, a smudge that looks like a thumbprint, and I’m wondering if you’d jump if I wiped it off.
The steam was so thick I couldn’t see my own knees, but I could hear her breathing, rhythmic and heavy, just three feet away.
Your hands were behind your back, your wrists crossed, and for a second, the only sound was the tide hitting the rocks.
!["You Know What Happens to Books That Stay Unopened"](https://miscd.fra1.digitaloceanspaces.com/medium/"you-know-what-happens-to-books-that-stay-unopened"-471-cover-1775998167964.jpg)
The weight of the silence in the shop was like a reduction sauce—thick, concentrated, and smelling faintly of things that had simmered too long.