The Pale Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:07:15 -

The Pale Garden

The knife slipped. Maren felt the cold bite of iron against her thumb. A bead of blood welled up. Dark. Red. It fell onto the white tablecloth. A stain. A mark. She wiped it away. The soup was thick. Creamy. It smelled of thyme and old bones. She stirred it. The spoon clinked against the ceramic. A sharp sound. It echoed in the small room. Outside, the wind howled. It was always howling here....

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