The Wistful Crossroads

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-19 04:04:10 -

The blood is cold. It pools in the hollow of your wrist. You do not look down. To look is to admit the wound. To admit the wound is to admit the end. You are standing in the white. The white is everywhere. It is not snow. It is not light. It is the absence of the world you knew. The stone floor is cold against your boots. The air tastes of iron and ozone. You are a soldier. You are a shield....

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