The Wistful Mountain

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 04:33:57 -

The iron gate groaned as my father pushed it open, the sound a long, shuddering tear in the quiet of the morning air, and I stepped out into the grey expanse of the yard where the smoke from the distant mills hung low and heavy, like a shroud draped over the valley. I was seven years old, small and brittle, my fingers wrapped tight around the handle of my father’s walking stick, which was...

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