The Distant Promise

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 10:13:16 -

The dream began with the smell of wet ash and iron. I stood in a corridor that stretched infinitely, the floor slick with a black residue that felt like blood but was cold, devoid of warmth. The walls breathed. That is the only way to describe it. The plaster expanded and contracted in a slow, rhythmic pulse, a heartbeat amplified to the scale of architecture. I was not afraid. In dreams, fear...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews