The Distant Temple

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 02:57:37 -

The rain had stopped, but the gutters still wept. Margaret stood at the window of the parlor. The glass was cold against her cheek. She looked out at the gray yard. The iron gate was rusted shut. Inside, the house smelled of damp wool and old paper. It was a heavy smell. It clung to the throat. Margaret pulled her shawl tighter. Her fingers were stiff. She could not feel her hands. Her sister,...

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