The Distant Journey

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 19:55:58 -

The iron key sat in my pocket. It weighed nothing. It weighed everything. I felt it against my thigh. A cold stone. A small death. I stood in the yard. The rain fell in sheets. Gray. Cold. It soaked my coat. I did not move. I could not move. My hands were tied by the cold. By the fear. By the thing I had done. The house loomed behind me. The Whitmore house. Tall. Dark. The windows were black...

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