The Pale Echo

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 06:29:53 -

The Pale Echo

The fog sits heavy on the stone. It tastes of iron. Of old blood. You are small here. You are seven. You are cold. The tower is your cage. The tower is your home. You climb. Step by step. The spiral stairs wind up. They eat the light. They eat the sound. You count the steps. One. Two. Three. You do not stop. If you stop, the cold wins. If you stop, the doubt wins. You are here to prove a thing....

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews