The Wistful Asylum

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 17:05:38 -

The bell rang at dawn. It was a sharp, brassy sound that cut through the gray mist hanging over the valley. It meant work. It meant the mill was waking up. Margaret Holloway stood by the window of her small cottage. The glass was cold against her forehead. She watched the smoke rise from the chimneys of the town. It swirled in slow, lazy circles before it faded into the sky. She did not move....

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews