## The Ledger’s Shadow The rain tasted like ash. Alexandre Lamousse ran a hand across the grimy window of his inherited apartment, watching Parisian streets slick with grey. November clung to the city like a damp shroud. His grandfather, Jean-Luc,…
## The Static Bloom The chipped Formica of the diner booth felt cold under Leo Maxwell’s elbows. Rain lashed against the window, blurring the neon glow of “Rosie’s” into smeared streaks. He hadn’t touched his coffee, the steam long dissipated.…
## The Static Between Stars The chipped Formica counter felt cold under Anya’s elbows. Rain lashed against the diner window, blurring the neon glow of “Rosie’s” into watery streaks. She traced patterns on her lukewarm coffee cup, ignoring Earl the…