The Pale Tower

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 23:04:32 -

The Pale Tower

The bird was dead, or it seemed dead, its wings folded tight against its body like a prayer shawl, its feathers a chaotic mosaic of grey and white that matched the peeling plaster of the ceiling above my workbench. I held it in my left hand, the weight of it negligible, a ghost of a thing, while my right hand trembled slightly as I adjusted the clamps on the wooden frame. It was a small bird, a...

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