The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 12:09:06 -

The fox had been coming to the garden for three nights, a ragged, rust-colored smudge against the dark, and I had stopped pretending I was not watching it. I sat on the back steps, the wood cold and damp through my thin trousers, holding a stick that I knew was not a sword, though I had named it Excalibur in my mind so many times that the word felt heavy in my mouth. The rain was falling in a...

0 Comments 0 Shares 31 Views 0 Reviews