The Wistful Witness

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 01:13:40 -

The rain hit the slate roof with a steady, hollow drumbeat. I sat alone in the guardhouse. The room smelled of damp wool and old tobacco. My boots were wet. The leather had stiffened against my shins. It was a cold night in the mill town of Ashworth. The factory chimneys exhaled dark smoke into the grey sky. I watched the water drip from the eaves. One drop. Then another. A rhythmic falling. My...

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