The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 08:17:25 -

The fire in the great hearth consumed the oak with a roar that sounded like a dying beast. It was the Feast of All Souls in the village of Oakhaven, a place where the fog clung to the cobblestones like a shroud. The air was thick with the scent of roasted lamb, stale ale, and the underlying, metallic tang of fear. In the center of the long table sat Silas Vane. He was a man carved from stone...

0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews