The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 12:34:16 -

The wind screamed. It tore at my cloak. It bit my hands. I walked. I walked through the snow. The snow was deep. The snow was cold. It was white. It was endless. I had no home. I had no hearth. I had only the road. And the road was long. And the road was dark. I was a hunter. I was a seeker. I sought the truth. The truth was hidden. The truth was buried. The truth was dead. Or so I thought. I...

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