((new)) - Lust For Adventure

The front door clicked shut behind him, and the silence of the house swallowed the space where he used to be.

He sat in the dim light of his study, the smell of old paper and stale pipe tobacco clinging to the velvet drapes. Outside, the London rain battered the windowpane, a rhythmic, gray drumming that signaled safety, routine, and the slow, comfortable suffocation of a life lived correctly. He was sixty years old. His accounts were balanced. His name was respected. And he was starving. lust for adventure