The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-20 11:51:24 -

The Wistful Saga

The dream is thick. It tastes of iron and wet wool. I am standing in the court. The stone is cold against my bare feet. The air is still. Too still. There is no wind in this place. Only the hum of the bees. They are black. They are gold. They are everywhere. They buzz in my ears. They buzz in my chest. I am the hive. I am the queen. I am the worker. I am the larva. I am the food. I open my...

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