The Faded Quadrant

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:23:22 -

The mirror was not a mirror at all, but a shard of polished obsidian no larger than a playing card, set into the velvet lining of my mother’s coat. I held it in my palm now, the edges biting into my skin, drawing a thin line of red that promised to become a gash if I were not careful. It was a relic from a house that no longer existed, a place of high ceilings and low whispers, a court of stone...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews