The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 16:29:41 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, grey mist that clung to the cobblestones of the old city and the heavy wool of Elias’s coat. He sat in the back of a carriage, his knees pressed together, holding a clay pot with the tenderness of a man holding a sleeping child. The pot was unremarkable, chipped at the rim, glazed in a dull terracotta that had seen better centuries. But...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews