The Static Bloom
## The Static Bloom Dust tasted like regret. Old metal, pulverized bone, the ghost of rain that hadn’t fallen in decades. Wren coughed, pulling her bandana tighter across her nose. The sun, a bruised plum low on the horizon, bled…
cognitive dissonance
Read MoreThe Static Bloom
The Echo Architect
## The Echo Architect The rain tasted like iron. Not a pleasant metallic tang, but the raw, insistent flavor of blood on concrete. Elias traced a finger across the damp brick wall, the chill seeping into his bone. He’s stood…