The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 21:36:05 -

The gate was heavy. It was made of iron and oak. It did not open easily. It never did. Thomas stood before it. He was twelve years old. His hands were small. They trembled. Not from fear. From cold. The wind bit at his neck. It smelled of wet stone and old blood. He looked up. The tower rose into the grey sky. It was silent. It watched him. Inside, the air was stale. It tasted of dust. The hall...

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