The Faded Alibi

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:52:09 -

The Faded Alibi

The rain did not fall. It hung in the air, a fine gray mist that tasted of iron and old stone. I stood before the high oak doors of the Hall, my hands buried deep in the pockets of my coat. The wool was thin. It had been thin for years, stretched by the sun and the wind of a journey that had no map. My name is Thomas. It is a small name. It fits in a small mouth. Inside, the fire crackled. It...

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