The Faded Dust

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 07:31:17 -

The Faded Dust

You wake. The stone is cold against your cheek. It has always been cold. You know this because you have woken here a thousand times. Or perhaps a million. Time is not a river here. It is a stagnant pool. You stand. Your joints pop. The sound is wet. You are Eleanor. You are the Duchess. You are the prisoner. The walls are white. Blindingly white. There are no windows. There is only the light....

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