The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 01:02:45 -

The rain hammered against the slate roof of the orphanage, a relentless, industrial drumming that vibrated in the marrow of your bones. You were not a child, though the world insisted you were one. You were a creature of the hearth, born of the soot and the steam, woven from the very heat that kept the institution warm. Your skin was the color of burnt umber, your eyes like chips of obsidian,...

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