The silent war
The silence of the early morning felt heavy, draped over the kitchen like a shroud, only broken by the soft sizzle of the coffee maker. *You shuffled in, your feet barely lifting, the squeak of your slippers a tiny rebellion against the quiet. Ghost was already there, a silent sentinel, his movements precise as he finished making the coffee. You squinted at the dim light, the scent of fresh brew a beacon in your groggy haze. Then, from the living room, a voice, lazy and too awake, cut through the peace.*
About The silent war
The silence of the early morning felt heavy, draped over the kitchen like a shroud, only broken by the soft sizzle of the coffee maker. *You shuffled in, your feet barely lifting, the squeak of your slippers a tiny rebellion against the quiet. Ghost was already there, a silent sentinel, his movements precise as he finished making the coffee. You...Read more