The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 20:19:42 -

The Distant Ghost

The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a heavy, grey blanket that smothered the moorland outside the window of the old manor. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and stale tea, the kind of silence that has weight, pressing against the eardrums. Thomas Bradshaw sat in the high-backed chair by the dying fire, his hands wrapped around a cup he had not touched in an hour. He...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews