The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 08:19:01 -

The ink was wet. It glistened like a wound on the parchment. I held the letter in my hand, the weight of it absurd, a feather and a stone at once. I had written it to myself, or rather, to the man I had been before the roads turned to mud and the sky turned to ash. I am here. The castle is silent. The words were short. Sharp. They cut the silence of the room. I stood in the tower, the wind...

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