The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 19:49:20 -

The sky turned the color of a bruise. Then it cracked. Not with lightning. No thunder. Just a split. A seam in the air above the valley. It widened. Slowly. Painfully. Elias stood on the ridge. He was twelve. Small. His hands were raw. He held a stick. It was his father’s walking stick. Broken now. Only half remained. He looked down. The town of Oakhaven was below. Smoke rose. Thin. Grey. It...

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