09/30/2026
It was an absurdly beautiful day for such a thing to appear.
The sun poured through the trees with such innocence that, for a moment, I nearly believed the carriage belonged there.
Nearly.
No driver sat upon its bench. No name adorned its door. The horse stood motionless beneath the weight of years that should have long since returned it to the earth—and yet the lanterns were burning.
I ought to have turned away.
Instead, I reached for the door.
Perhaps that is the peculiar cruelty of curiosity:
we are seldom dragged toward the things that undo us.
More often, we approach them willingly.
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