The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:20:23 -

You wake before the sun. The stone floor is cold. It bites through the thin wool of your tunic. You are in the city. The walls are high. They are white. They are old. They smell of dust and dried blood. You do not know why you are here. You do not know how you came. Your mind is a fog. You try to remember. The memory comes in shards. A door. A key. A face. It is not your face. It is a face of...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews