The Distant Temple

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 07:33:02 -

The ink is fading. You hold the stamp. It is brass. It is cold. It is heavy in your palm, like a small, dead bird. You press it down. The sound is dull. A thud. The paper takes the mark. A square of black. A square of nothing. You are in the office. The walls are blue. The carpet is green. The light is gray. It is always gray here. You are a clerk. You are no one. You are the hand that signs...

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