Whispers Beneath the Tap
The sink whispered at dusk. From the drain rose an eastern djinn, scented with cardamom and brass. He bargained with bubbles, granting silence. Water bowed. Porcelain listened. At dawn the djinn vanished, leaving the sink ordinary, heavier with secrets, humming prayers beneath taps, while lamps remembered deserts and patient moons under fading stars.
© Copyright: Гаврилов Юрий, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №226030100854
Свидетельство о публикации №226030100854
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