The Distant Garden

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-19 05:28:38 -

The loom clacked. It was a dry, wooden sound. Like a knuckle cracking. I sat before it. My hands moved. Thread over thread. I did not look up. The air smelled of wool and damp stone. Outside, the bells rang. Three times. Then silence. I am a weaver. That is all I am. I make tapestries. I make them for the King. They say my work is good. They do not know why. I do not know why. I just make it....

0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3 Views 0 önizleme