The Faded Masquerade

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-18 10:22:53 -

"You are late," said the baker. I did not answer. I stood in the doorway, holding my bread. The loaf was heavy. It was hot. It smelled of yeast and fire. I am a child. I am small. I have always been small. My name is Thomas. I am twelve years old. I live in the town of Oakhaven. It is a quiet town. The houses are old. The streets are narrow. The air is thick with fog. My mother is dead. She has...

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