The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 17:29:09 -

The mill stood against the sky like a wound that refused to close. It was a place of stone and silence, built by hands long turned to dust, where the wind whistled through the cracks in the mortar and sounded like a warning no one listened to. Elias sat on the cold flagstones, his knees drawn to his chest. He was ten years old, thin as a reed, with eyes that held a depth older than his face....

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews