The Golden Echoes

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 09:05:43 -

The Golden Echoes

I dreamed of the Spire. It rose. White. Bone white. It pierced the gray sky. A needle threading the void. I stood at its base. The stone was cold. Wet. It smelled of iron. And rot. I knew it. I had always known it. It was my wife’s house. No. It was our house. The memory was a shard. Sharp. Cutting. I reached for it. The stone resisted. It pushed back. A wall. A barrier. I was a fly. Trapped....

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