The Pale Altar

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 10:00:36 -

The Pale Altar

The dream began, as it always did, with the smell of wet wool and the cold, indifferent weight of a stone floor pressing against my cheek, a sensation so visceral that when I finally opened my eyes in the grey light of the morning, the taste of chalk dust was still lingering on my tongue, sharp and chalky, a phantom flavor that refused to be washed away by the tepid water I drank from the clay...

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