The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 21:20:12 -

You are the Inquisitor. The Hall is cold. Stone bites. You stand. Tall. Gray. Your coat is wool. Thick. It smells of dust. And fear. Above you. Thrones. Gold. Cold gold. The High Court watches. Silence. It hums. Like a wire. Strung tight. You hold the file. Paper. Thin. Wet with sweat. Your hands shake. No. They do not. You force them still. The accused is there. Bound. Kneeling. A child. Ten....

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