The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 08:58:17 -

The Pale Tower

The dream always began with the smell of wet wool and old parchment. I was standing in the Great Hall of the University of St. Jude’s, a place that had burned to the ground in 1942, yet in my sleep it stood tall, its gothic arches piercing a sky that was neither day nor night, but a bruised, eternal twilight. I was not a student here. I was the ink. I was the silence between the lines. My name,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews