The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 20:50:36 -

I woke with the taste of iron on my tongue. It was a thick, cold taste, like licking a rusted gate in the rain. I sat up in the high bed of the royal apartments. The walls were lined with tapestries of wolves, but the wolves were not hunting. They were standing still, their eyes wide and hollow, looking directly at me. I looked at my hands. They were not hands. They were tools. They were...

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