The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:03:41 -

The castle fell on a Tuesday. Not a metaphorical fall. Not a crumbling of ideals. The stones actually broke. The tower, the old keep, the place where the silence used to live, it shattered. Dust choked the sky. It was thick and brown and tasted of iron. Eleanor stood in the field. Her boots sank into the mud. She did not run. Running was for people who had somewhere else to be. She had nowhere....

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