The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 13:51:09 -

The road was a ribbon of gray dust. We walked. My legs burned. The air was thin. It tasted of iron. Old blood. We had left the city three days prior. The city was behind us. A stone cage. I am a scholar. I study the bones of the dead. I know how a spine curves under weight. I know how a jaw clenches in death. I know the architecture of pain. But I did not know the weight of the silence. My...

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