The Wistful Silence

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-20 16:19:28 -

I dreamed of the gate. It stood alone in the gray mist, a skeleton of iron. The paint was peeling. Flakes of red rust drifted down like ash. I reached for the handle. It was cold. I turned it. It did not open. I pushed. It held. I was locked out. Or perhaps I was locked in. The distinction felt academic. The air smelled of wet stone and old blood. I woke with the taste of iron on my tongue. The...

0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2 Views 0 önizleme