The Distant Threshold

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-17 12:06:03 -

I woke with my hand pressed against the cold floor. The tile bit into my palm. I did not pull it away. The ache was sharp. It was real. I sat up. The room was white. The light was gray. It was morning. Or it was not. The time had no weight here. I stood. My knees cracked. They were old joints. They had served their time. I walked to the window. The glass was fogged from the inside. I wiped a...

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