The Distant Threshold

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 20:03:07 -

The rain had not stopped in three days. It fell upon the slate roof of the watchtower in a steady, grey sheet. You stood at the edge of the parapet. Your hands were wet. Your mind was dry. Below, the village of Oakhaven slept under the weight of the storm. Smoke rose from the chimneys. Thin. Blue. It curled into the mist and vanished. You watched it go. You always watched it go. You were the...

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