The Graduate watched the heavens burn, bruised, the fleeting warmth of a phantom hand in his own. The Remnant was a year younger than he, still rose-colored and blinding, a blossom bleeding pollen.
Sunset Summer
The Graduate watched the heavens burn, bruised, the fleeting warmth of a phantom hand in his own. The Remnant was a year younger than he, still rose-colored and blinding, a blossom bleeding pollen.