The Faded River

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 11:47:28 -

The Faded River

The oak stood at the edge of the clearing. It was ancient. Its bark was deep and furrowed. It looked like a face. I had seen it before. In dreams. Or maybe in life. I could not remember. I only knew it was there. I walked toward it. The ground was soft. Moss covered the earth. The air smelled of rain. And decay. I am a soldier. Or I was. The rank is gone. The uniform is gone. Only the habit...

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