The Pale Garden

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 08:57:23 -

The Pale Garden

You dream of roots. They are white. Pale as bone. They twist in the dark earth, gripping the soil with a hunger that feels like your own. You wake. The air is cold. It smells of wet stone and rot. You are in a carriage. The wheels grind against gravel. Your father sits beside you. He does not speak. His hands are folded on his knees. They are steady. Too steady. You are a soldier. You carry a...

0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare