The Faded Root

agregó una foto Literature

2026-08-19 10:31:47 -

The Faded Root

The banquet hall of the Ashworth Estate did not smell of food. It smelled of wet wool, old dust, and the metallic tang of copper pennies dropped on stone. I was twelve, which is an age where you believe you are invisible if you stay in the shadows, and I was standing in the shadows, near the legs of the mahogany table where the Lord of the Manor sat. The year was 1904, or perhaps 1910. Time had...

0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 1 Views 0 Vista previa