The Faded Road
The dream was always the same, a recurring loop of dust and silence. Elias stood in a corridor that stretched back into the dark, the floorboards groaning under the weight of centuries. He was holding a spool of thread, thin and white, but it was tangled, knotted, impossibly dense. He tried to pull it straight, but it only tightened around his wrist, choking him. In the dream, he was not a man...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima