The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 05:45:22 -

The Distant Ghost

The mist clung to the roots of the ancient oaks. It did not drift. It held. Like a shroud. Like a hand. Elara stood at the edge of the clearing. Her boots sank into the loam. The soil was black. Wet. Cold. She held the lantern. The glass was thin. The flame was steady. It burned with a blue light. Not fire. Something else. She had come here to find her father. Thomas. He was a man of stone. Of...

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