The Distant Threshold

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 00:52:34 -

The castle was not made of stone, but of frozen breath. I knew this because I could taste the salt and the cold on my tongue, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat like a secret kept too long. My name is Arthur, or at least, it is the name the wind gives me when it howls through the archways of this impossible place, a boy of twelve winters who has forgotten how to be warm. I am...

0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare