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The Whisper

  • Regret

    It was a rainy afternoon. People stayed inside trying to avoid getting wet and the ground was soaking. Robert was on his way home. Nothing important had happened that day. ...

    • Short Story
    • Romantic
    4 min read


I was flummoxed by fractious Franny's decision to abrogate analgesics for the moribund victims of the recent conflagration. Of course, to display histrionics was discretionary, but I did so anyways, implicating a friend in my drama to make the effect cumulative. I think a misanthrope would have a prosaic appellation, perhaps one related to autonomy and the rejection of anthropocentrism. I think they wouldn't think much of the prominence of watching the coagulation of tea to prognosticate future malevolent events, not even if those events were related to jurisprudence.
— Spearmint