The Wistful Show

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2026-08-18 04:22:37 -

The Wistful Show

The rain hit the stone like a hammer. I stood in the courtyard. My sword was broken. The King stood on the balcony. He did not look down. He looked at the sky. The sky was black. The air smelled of wet iron. It smelled of blood. It smelled of me. I was a prisoner. I was a son. I was a fool. The guards held me. Their hands were cold. They wore masks. The masks had no eyes. They had no mouths....

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