The Faded Ruin

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 02:18:57 -

The Faded Ruin

The coat hung on the hook by the door. It was grey. It was my grey. I looked at it. It looked back. In the Hall of Silence, we do not speak of looking back. We speak of observing. The coat was wool. It had a tear at the left sleeve. I had made that tear. Three winters ago. Or four. Time is a flat thing here. It does not move. It sits. Like the coat. I am a Guardian. That is the word they use....

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