By MissT Today, I let the broken man goThe one who touched me —Not with hands,But with a kind of haunted ache. I’d seen his kind before,Vulnerable like a childWho never learned where to putAll the pain he carried. Eyes full of ghosts and fading dreams,Chasing truths down the bottom of a glass,Smoke curling like…

by MissT He lived behind smokeand called it safety.I reached through it,cutting my handson the edges of his silence. Every promise was glass —clear, fragile,and always just about to break.Every memory was a ghosthe couldn’t face,and wouldn’t let go. I stood in the doorwaybetween who he wasand who he never became,watching his lifegather dust like…

by MissT [Her voice]I saw a face, a smile so fierce,My heart’s protective layer pierced.His hair was soft like meadow grass,His eyes, a green hue of shining glass. [His voice]I saw her hands, so soft, so brave,Reach out to pull me from my grave.Her voice, a light I could not faceToo bright to touch, too…

Chapter Three the letter Sasha sat on the Tube, watching the people around her with quiet interest. An elderly couple sat across the aisle, likely in their eighties. They didn’t speak. The man was nodding off, head dipping toward his wife’s shoulder before he caught himself each time. In front of them, a little girl…

Chapter Two Back to Reality The day began slowly. Moschops perched at the foot of the bed, rhythmically kneading the duvet, his eyes half-closed in that smug feline trance. Sirens wailed in the distance. The hum of early traffic filtered through the cracked window—urban static that somehow comforted her more than silence. Sasha still rose…