The Wistful Saga

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:36:42 -

The Wistful Saga

The dream was always the same. A forest of glass trees. The leaves were shards of mirror, reflecting not my face, but the faces of those I had failed. I woke in the cold blue light of the dormitory, the sheets tangled around my legs like vines. The air smelled of stale coffee and industrial cleaner. I sat up. My hands were shaking. They always shook when the dream ended. I am a man who lives...

0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews