The Pale Circus

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-19 16:31:09 -

The Pale Circus

The bread is stale. You press it between your teeth. It tastes of dust and old wood. You are walking. The road is long. The sky is grey. It has been grey for a month. Or a year. Time is a broken clock here. You hold the loaf in your left hand. Your right hand grips the hilt of your sword. The leather is cracked. The metal is dull. You are an exile. You do not remember why you left. You only...

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