The Distant Garden

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-17 11:02:54 -

I left the house at dawn. The air bit. It was sharp. Cold. I wore my coat. It was thin. It offered nothing. I walked toward the highway. My boots made crunching sounds. The gravel was white. The sky was grey. I was tired. I was always tired. My name is Silas. I am not a man. Not really. I am the shadow that lives in the wall. I am the dust in the sunbeam. I have been here for a hundred years. I...

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