The Wistful Mirror

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 17:25:29 -

The bell rang. It was not a church bell. It was the iron chime of the town hall, the one that marked the hour and the hunger. It screamed across the cobblestones. It cut the morning mist. I stood in the square. My hands were empty. My stomach was a stone. I am a seer. Or so they say. I am a man who reads the air. I feel the weight of things before they fall. I am not a wizard. I do not cast...

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