The Faded Attic

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 11:36:44 -

The Faded Attic

The iron bit into my teeth. I spat blood. The floor was wet. "You bleed," said the Warden. His voice was wet. Like gravel in a tin cup. I looked up. My hands were bound. Rope. Thick rope. It bit into my wrists. I did not look away. "Look at me," he commanded. I looked. He held a mirror. A hand mirror. The glass was clouded. Old. Cracked down the middle. "Is this your face?" It was. And it was...

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