The Distant Legend

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 20:54:03 -

The fog rolled in from the moor like a living thing, thick and grey and tasting of iron, swallowing the stone cottages of Blackthorn until only the church spire remained, a pale finger pointing accusingly at a bruised and silent sky. It was the season of the Wither, when the soil turned to powder and the wells ran dry, and the people of the village did not pray to the saints, for the saints had...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima