The Pale Garden

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-18 13:47:06 -

The Pale Garden

The mark is on your wrist. You see it. A thin, white line. Like a scar from a burn that never happened. You press your thumb against it. It does not hurt. It is cold. It is always cold. The room is dark. The city hums outside. It is a low, industrial groan. Steam rises from the grates. It fogs the glass. You are alone. You have been alone for days. The fever came first. It burned you from the...

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