The Distant Threshold

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 12:15:41 -

The rain in Blackwood City did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a heavy, gray veil that soaked into the wool of my uniform and settled in the marrow of my bones, a constant, cold reminder that the world was not the clean, ordered place my father had promised it to be when he marched off to the war with his chin high and his eyes bright with a terrible, shining faith in the righteousness...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews