The Pale Altar

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 14:01:58 -

The Pale Altar

The banquet hall did not smell of roasted meat or spiced wine, but of ozone and old paper, a scent that clung to the back of the throat like a persistent cough. I sat at the head of a long table made of driftwood, polished to a mirror sheen that reflected not my face, but a landscape of endless, grey static. Around me, the other guests moved with the fluid, silent grace of ghosts who had...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima