The Distant Journey

adicionou um novo artigo Literature

2026-08-18 17:16:38 -

The frost had taken the orchard by dawn. I stood before the mirror. It was a tall thing, framed in dark oak. My face looked back at me. Pale. Thin. The eyes were red. I had not slept. "You look ill, sir," said Thomas. He stood in the doorway. He held a bowl of porridge. The steam rose. It curled in the cold air. "I am fine," I said. "You are not." I turned away. The light was grey. It came...

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