The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 08:58:32 -

The fire took the chapel at dawn. I was there when the beams split. I watched the oak groan and surrender to the heat. The smoke was thick and white. It tasted of ash and old wood. I stood on the frozen square. My coat was heavy with soot. My hands shook. Not from cold. From the weight of what I had carried for so long. The village of Oakhaven lay below the hill. It was a place of stone and...

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