E Hen Gallery Today

The last time I visited, I brought no blood. I brought a single, unfinished sentence I’d been carrying for years: “I wanted to tell you—”

“You’re bleeding,” said a voice. Not from anywhere. From everywhere. e hen gallery

Outside, the storm had passed. The street was wet, ordinary. I looked back at the door. It was now a blank wall, the brass knocker gone, the lantern dead. I touched my palm. The cut had healed into a faint scar shaped like a lowercase e . The last time I visited, I brought no blood