The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 16:53:52 -

The Distant Ghost

The rain does not fall. It hangs. A grey veil over the moor, thick with the scent of wet wool and old blood. You walk. Your boots sink into the sod. One step. Then another. The mud sucks at your heels, pulling you down into the earth. You are not a man. Not quite. You are the hunger that lives in the belly of the village. You are the breath that fogs the windowpane. You are the shadow that...

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